mm 


A   BOOK   OF   VAGARIES. 


BOOK  OF  VAGAPJES 


COMPRISING 


THE     NEW    MIREOR    FOR    TRAVELLERS 


AND    OTHEK 


WLIIM-WHAMS 


BEIXG    SELECTIONS    FEOM    THE    PAPERS    OF 


A      RETIRED      COMMON-COUNCILMAN, 


EREWHILE    KNOWN    AS 


LAUNCELOT    LANGSTAFF, 


AND,    IN   THE   PUBLIC   RECORDS, 


JAMES     K.    PAULDING. 


EDITED  BY  WILLIAM  I.  PAULDING. 


NEW   YORK: 
CHARLES    SCRIBNER    .\ND   COMPANY. 

1868. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1867,  by 

WILLIAM    I.    PAULDING, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


CAMBRIDGE: 

STEREOTYPED    AND    PRINTED    BY    JOHN    WILSON    AND    SON. 


IISTTEODUCTIOK 


The  title  which  I  have  given  to  this  volume  of  the  works 
of  James  K.  Paulding  was  not  devised  for  the  sak ;  of  any 
bizarre  effect  it  might  be  supposed  to  have,  but  because  it 
seemed  to  me  really  to  suggest  the  character  of  the  contents. 
Even  "  The  New  Mirror  for  Travellers  ",  which  occupies  so 
much  space  in  it,  is  rather  a  series  of  satirical  observations 
varied  with  brief  essays  or  stories  than  a  connected  work. 

Mr.  Paulding,  even  when  he  started  out  with  some  special 
object  in  view,  was  apt  to  follow  the  lead  of  his  fancy  as  it 
warmed,  and  to  set  down  just  what  popped  into  his  head.  If 
this  rambling  and  discursive  habit  has  its  great  disadvantages, 
it  is  not  without  a  certain  compensation,  in  the  assurance 
which  it  gives  to  the  reader  that  he  is  not  entrapped  into  a 
piece  of  sentiment,  or  led  up,  like  a  partridge  by  cautiously- 
strewed  grains  of  buckwheat,  into  a  hair-noose  of  a  jest. 

Old  birds  of  readers,  familiar  with  the  arts  of  writing  men, 
will  call  to  mind  many  a  seed  that  they  have  seen  dropped  on 
the  way,  to  be  harvested  by  and  by  with  as  much  certainty  as 
a  rye  crop.  Why,  some  men  dibble  'em  in,  like  cabbage- 
plants  ;  and  one  knows  that  they  will,  in  due  time,  weather 
and  worms  permitting,  blow  out  into  full  head. 

A  skittish  man  abhors  these  studied  surprises.     But  he 


Vlll  INTRODUCTION. 

may  plunge  unsuspiciously  into  Mr.  Paulding's  fields  and  pas- 
tures. If  a  flower  springs  in  his  path,  Nature  put  it  there ; 
and  if  he  pricks  his  finger  with  a  bramble  while  he  stretches 
forth  his  hand  to  gather  a  blossom,  a  la  bonne  heure  /,  he  must 
not  complain,  for,  be  sure,  it  will  turn  out  a  black-cap  or  a 
wild  raspberry,  and  it  was  in  the  very  constitution  of  things 
that  they  should  be  associated. 

It  certainly  is  a  charm,  if  it  be  not  a  merit,  in  Mr.  Pauld- 
ing's writings,  that  they  are  absolutely  unvarnished.  If  an 
exquisite  thought  came  from  him,  "  totiis,  teres,  atque  rotun- 
diis  ",  we  may  be  assured  that  it  had  not  been  rolled  about 
and  ^lolished  assiduously,  like  a  jeweller's  work  :  —  rather  it 
was  the  natural  gem  of  the  mine.  Indeed,  as  he  prattles 
away  in  his  careless  fashion,  we  are  sometimes  reminded  of 
the  girl  in  the  fairy-tale,  who  di'opped  pearls  from  her  mouth 
in  her  ordinary  talk. 

Above  all,  he  was  not  of  the  men  that  say  to  themselves  :  — 
Go  to  ;  now  let  us  be  funny,  —  and  who  fetch  up  their  tears 
with  a  rotary  pump,  that  one  can  hear  creak  as  they  work  at 
it.  No ;  his  humor  flitted  about,  like  the  bobolink  athwart 
the  breeze,  now  on  this  tack  now  on  that  as  the  fancy  took 
him,  but  with  no  more  calculation  about  its  efl*ect  upon  men 
than  the  bird  makes  when  he  gushes  blithely  into  song ;  while 
there  was  an  ever-living  spring  of  sentiment  within  him,  steal- 
ing away,  for  the  most  part,  unseen,  like  the  natural  overflow 
amid  the  grass,  and  only  once  in  a  while  gleaming  in  the  sun- 
light, because  it  happened  to  cross  the  sunlight's  path. 

The  notion  of  attributing  the  papers  to  "  a  retired  Common- 
councilman  "  was  suggested  by  the  title-page  of  "  Chronicles 
of  the  City  of  Gotham  " :  and,  as  it  seemed  to  me  not  inap- 
propriate, I  have  transferred  the  dedication  of  that  volume  to 
this.     ''The  whim-whams  and  oj)inions  of  Launcelot  Lang- 


INTRODUCTION.  IX 

staff,  Esq.,  and  others  ",  of  the  first  series  of  "  Salmagundi ", 
were  reduced  in  the  second  to  those  of  Launcelot  Langstaff, 
Esq.,  alone.  As  we  have  in  this  volume  more  of  the  idiosyn- 
crasies of  that  gentleman,  I  thought  that  his  name  might 
fairly  appear  upon  the  title-page. 

The  engraving  of  Mr.  Paulding  in  this  volume  is  after  a 
medallion  executed  by  J.  G.  Chapman,  about  the  year  1843. 
He  was  then  sixty -five  years  of  age ;  and  his  appearance  did 
not  materially  change  till  within  two  or  three  years  of  his 
death,  when  he  ceased  to  shave. 

Mr.  Paulding  had  a  detestation  for  watering-places,  and  a 
good  deal  of  •'•  The  New  Mirror  for  Travellers  ",  published  in 
1828.,  is  devoted  to  gibes  against  Saratoga  and  Ballston.  In 
"  Letters  from  the  South ",  he  has  a  shy  at  such  resorts. 
"In  all  the  constituents  of  a  fashionable  watering-place, 
Berkeley  maintains  a  most  respectable  rank,  inasmuch  as  it 
affords  as  great  a  variety  of  character,  as  many  gay  equipages 
and  gay  people,  and  almost  as  great  a  lack  of  amusement,  as 
Ballston  or  Long  Branch."  Again,  in  "  A  Sketch  of  Old  Eng- 
land ",  referring  to  Barmouth  in  Wales,  frequented  for  the 
purpose  of  bathing,  he  grimly  says  :  —  "  The  town  is  mean, 
incommodious,  and  difficult  of  access,  presenting,  on  the  whole, 
nearly  all  the  inconveniences  which  form  the  principal  attrac- 
tion of  watering-places." 

Any  one  in  possession  of  a  print  of  a  street  scene  of  about 
tliis  period  will  be  amused  with  Mr.  Paulding's  comments  on 
the  costume  of  the  day,  and  especially  on  the  head-gear  of  the 
ladies.  In  "  The  New-York  Mirror  "  for  January  loth,  1831., 
there  is  an  engraving  of  The  Battery,  "  done  in  a  style  that 
cannot  fail,  we  think,  of  giving  universal  satisfaction."  Tiiere 
are  front,  rear,  and  profile,  views  of  bonnets  in  it,  that  are 
amazini:. 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

I  set  down  here,  as  matter  of  antiquanan  interest,  what 
httle  I  have  been  able  to  gather  about  the  taverns  and  eating- 
houses  of  New  York  and  Albany,  incidentally  alluded  to  in 
the  production.  For  this  information,  (and  some  other),  I 
am  under  obligation  to  Mr.  James  II.  Ilackett  and  Mr.  Gulian 
C.  Verj)lanck. 

From  the  first-mentioned  gentleman  I  have  the  following, 
in  reference  to  matters  on  page  21 :  — 

•'  The  Bank  Coffee  House  locality  was  South-East  corner  of  Pine 
and  WiHiain  streets.  It  Avas  kept  by  William  Niblo,  as  I  can  re- 
member distinctly,  from  1816  to  1820 ;  when  I  departed  New 
York  City,  and  went  to  and  settled  in  Utica  as  a  merchant.  In 
1825,  when  I  had  returned  as  such  and  resumed  a  residence  in 
New  York,  (23  Broadway),  and  first  became  personally  known  to 
your  late  father,  who  was  a  neighbor,  Niblo — tho'  still  keeping 
the  Bank  Coffee  House  —  had  been  measurably  surpassed  in 
popularity,  as  a  pu1)lic  caterer  for  nice  palates,  by  one  Sykes,  (an 
Englishman  and  an  adventurer),  who  had  become  more  famous 
for  his  gastronomic  preparations,  and  kept  a  public  house,  also  in 
William  street, — but,  nearly  opposite  the  front  of  the  present 
Delmonico  Building,  corner  of  Beaver  street. 

"Niblo  soon  thereafter  partially  withdrew  from  competition 
with  Sykes,  and,  refitting  some  old  family-mansion,  not  far  from 
where  is  now  the  intersection  of  61st  street  by  the  Third  Avenue, 
and  ornamenting  its  few  surrounding  acres,  called  the  premises, 
'  Kensington  House ' ;  and  also  got  up  and  ran,  at  certain  hours 
of  summer  days,  between  that  and  the  Bank  Coffee  House,  an 
omnibus,  — the  first  vehicle  of  the  kind  which  had  then  been  seen 
in  New  York. 

"  Sykes  eventually  became  a  bankrupt,  and  was  notorious  for 
his  profligacy,  and  for  his  large  and  many  debts  and  defalcations  ; 
and,  finally,  'twas  said  of  him,  as  of  the  poor  old  Frenchman  in 
the  tale  of  Monsieur  Tonson,  after  having  been  so  long  teased  by 
the  wag,  Tom  King, — 

'  Away  he  ran  and  ne'er  was  heard  of  more.'  " 

The  Turtle  Club,  mentioned  on  page  22,  met  at  Hoboken, 


INTRODUCTION.  XI 

and  included  most  of  the  wealthy  gourmands  of  New  York. 
It  was  more  notorious  for  its  high  feeding  than  for  its  wit. 

I  get,  from  Mr.  Verplanck,  the  ensuing  particulars  in 
reference  to  two  houses  of  entertainment  specified  on  page 
167. 

"  Cruttenden's  and  Rockweirs,  at  Albany,  are  of  an  historical 
record  and  connected  with  the  political  history  of  the  State. 

"  Rockweirs  was  a  large  double  house  of  yellow  brick,  built 
for  the  residence  of  some  of  the  old  dignitaries  of  Albany,  but 
raised  some  stories  and  enlarged.  It  stood,  and  1  think  still 
stands,  though  converted  into  shops,  &c.,  in  Pearl  street,  some- 
thing North  of  State  street,  on  the  East  side  of  the  way.  It  was 
for  years  the  winter  resort  of  many  of  the  chief  men  of  the  old 
Democratic  party.  There  was  always  to  be  found  the  eloquent 
Peter  R.  Livingston,  Walter  Bowne,  afterwards  ^^layor,  long  in 
the  State  Senate,  and  others  of  name. 

"  Cruttenden's  was  of  still  more  note,  though  not  of  so  marked 
a  political  character.  It  is  still  standing,  though  destined  to  be 
soon  removed,  as  it  is  on  the  ground  ceded  for  the  new  capitol. 
It  stands,  origuially  one  only,  subsequently  the  two  last  houses  on 
the  N.  corner  facing  the  present  park  in  front  of  the  Capitol,  being 
on  the  East  side. 

"  It  was  long  fauious  for  its  landlord  and  its  guests.  He  was  a 
man  of  infinite  jest,  and  besides  kept  the  best  table  in  Albany  or 
indeed  in  the  country.  The  house  was  resorted  to  by  Elisha 
Williams  and  all  the  great  lawyers,  Rudolph  Bunner,  and  other 
men  of  pleasantry.  It  was  the  scene  of  sundry  droll  incidents 
which  told  on  public  opinion  through  the  State." 

Mr.  Verplanck  remarks,  further:  —  "A  full  note  on  these 
two  houses,  especially  Cruttenden's,  would  be  of  much  inter- 
est."    This  I  regret  that  I  am  unable  to  furnish. 

A  few  foot-notes,  included  in  brackets,  have  been  added  to 
this  edition  of  The  New  Mirror  for  Travellers. 

The  compositions  which  form  the  residue  of  the  volume 
are,  (with   the   exception  of  the  last  two),  selected  from  a 


XU  INTRODUCTION. 

number  of  the  same  whimsical  cast  contributed  by  Mr.  Pauld- 
ing to  The  Xew-York  Mirror  during  the  years  1831  and 
1832.  They  may  be  called  representative  papers;  for  he 
wrote  a  great  variety  of  the  sort,  which  he  strewed  about  at 
random  everywhere  during  his  life.  They  are  representative 
also  in  the  fact  that,  odd  as  may  be  the  superstructure,  the 
foundation  is  always  laid  in  that  strong  and  manly  common- 
sense  which  was  one  of  his  principal  characteristics. 

"Jonathan's  Visit  to  the  Celestial  Empire"  had  a  certain 
basis  in  foot  —  what,  I  have  been  unable  to  ascertain,  defini- 
tively. It  is  not  unlikely  that  he  heard  the  story  when  Sec- 
retary of  the  Navy  Board,  at  Washington.  The  ginseng  was 
a  traditional  part  of  the  yarn.  lie  has,  j^robably  through 
inadvertence,  antedated  it  a  little.  Some  very  small  vessels 
undoubtedly  made  the  voyage  to  the  East  Indies,  late  in  the 
eighteenth  century.  For  example  :  —  The  brig  Rose,  of  82 
tons,  belonging  to  E.  II.  Derby,  Nathaniel  Silsbee  command- 
er, arrived  at  Salem  from  the  East  Indies  in  1788.  —  The 
sloop  Union,  of  96  ton.^,  John  Boit  master,  sailed  from  New- 
port. August  29.  1794,  for  Canton,  and  arrived  in  Boston, 
July  11.  1796. 

'•  The  Historj^  of  Uncle  Sam  and  his  Boys ",  published 
February  19.  1831,  has  in  view  the  various  schemes  agitated 
fi'om  time  to  time  in  Congress  for  a  distribution  among  the 
States,  sometimes  of  the  public  lands,  sometimes  of  the  sur- 
plus public  revenue.  In  a  modified  form,  the  measure  was 
eventually  carried  through,  in  1836.  As  early  as  January  30, 
1830,  Mr.  Paulding  had  written  to  Mr.  Irving,  then  Secretary 
to  the  American  legation  at  the  Court  of  St.  James  :  — 

"  If  you  read  the  American  papers,  you  will  see  that  Congress 
is  reckoning  its  chickens  before  they  are  liatt  bed,  and  dividing  a 
surplus  revenue  before  they  are  out  of  debt.     I  am  in  hopes 


INTRODUCTION.  XIU 

something  will  turn  up  to  oblige  tliem  to  borrow  money  and  run 
in  debt  again,  for  I  bad  rather  see  this,  than  quarreling  about  the 
division  of  Uncle  Sam's  estate  before  he  is  dead.  How  all  this 
wretched  squabbling  about  the  spoils  of  the  General  Government 
will  end  I  know  not,  but  it  is  evident  to  me  that  parties  no  longer 
involve  principles  ;  "  &c. 

"  The  History  of  Uncle  Sam  and  his  Womankind  ",  pub- 
lished July  7.  1832 — (as  nearly  on  the  National  Anniver- 
sary as  was  possible  in  a  weekly  paper)  —  in  like  manner 
refers  to  the  agitation  which  resulted,  November  24,  1832, 
in  the  notorious  nullification  "  ordinance  "  of  South  Carolina. 

It  were  well  could  these  two  papers  pass  into  the  popular 
mind.  Mayhap,  they  are  worthy  the  study  of  them  that 
claim  the  standing  of  American  statesmen.  On  the  surface 
mere  jokes  of  the  day,  they  play  over  most  of  our  sectional 
characteristics  with  an  acuteness,  and  lay  finger  on  certain  all- 
important  national  questions  with  a  strength,  that  give  them 
historical  and  daily  value.  They  are  imbued  throughout  with 
that  broad  spirit  of  nationality  which  was  the  very  life  of  his 
mind,  but  which  is  as  yet  so  rare  among  our  leading  men. 

Mr.  Paulding  was  fond  of  writing  apologues  and  fables, 
after  the  fashion  of  the  East.  In  "  Haschbasch,  the  Pearl- 
diver  ",  he  has  effected  a  very  ludicrous  combination  of  Ori- 
ental scenery  with  thoroughly  American  idea. 

"  Killing,  No  Murder "  is  one  of  the  many  j^rotests  he 
uttered  against  that  almost  universal  American  falling,  tlie 
desire  of  making  as  much  show  on  one  thousand  dollars  a 
year  as  can  be  made  upon  an  income  of  fifty. 

"  Six  Weeks  in  the  Moon  "  is  Svvlftian  for  vigor.  Not  so 
frightful  and  ghastly  as  the  account  of  "  the  grand  academy 
of  Lagado",  which  it  in  a  measure  recalls,  it  is  perhaps  equal- 
ly searching.     Of  the  same  essential  spirit,  the  work  of  the 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

later  author  is  rendered  more  agreeable  by  the  more  genial 
character  of  the  man.  The  idea  is  not  a  new  one,  nor  was  it 
for  the  first  time  worked  by  him  in  this  paper.  "  Selections 
from  the  Journal  of  a  late  Traveller  to  the  Moon  "  appeared 
in  The  New-York  Mirror  for  June  7,  1834.  As  often  hap- 
pened with  him,  he  seems  to  have  forgotten  this  entirely. 
In  the  United  States  Review  for  June,  1853,  he  repeated 
the  same  general  course  of  thought  in  a  somewhat  different 
shape.  I  give  the  article  as  an  illustration  —  (one,  among 
many  that  might  be  produced)  —  of  how  little  his  "  natural 
force"  was  "abated"  by  reason  of  lengthened  years.  He 
was  then  close  on  to  seventy-five. 

As  an  example  of  his  sadder  vagaries,  I  have  closed  the 
volume  with  a  little  essay,  which  formed  originally  one  of 
the  "  Letters  from  the  South  ",  and  to  which  I  have  given  the 
title  —  "A  Mood  of  Nature  and  of  Man."  It  is  redolent  of 
that  old  English  "humour"  which  the  literature  of  no  other 
race  has  approached ;  and  authorizes  me,  as  I  think,  to  make 
the  remark,  (which  at  least  appears  to  me  impartial),  that  he 
has  done  many  things  well,  and  some  in  a  manner  that  has 
scarcely  been  surpassed. 

W.  I.  P. 


I 


COJSTTENTS. 


Page 
Epistle  Dedicatory,  and  Petition 3 

Preface  to  The  New  Mirror  for  Travellers     ...     11 

The  New  Mirror  for  Travellers 17 

The  Nymph  op  the  Mount,\in 287 

Jonathan's  Visit  to  the  Celestial  Empire      ....  303 

The  History  of  Uncle  Sam  and  his  Boys  .     .     .     .     .  325 

The  History  of  Uncle  Sam  and  his  Wo.ALiNKiND     .     .  341 

Haschbasch,  the  Pearl-diver 363 

Killing,  no  Murder 381 

Six  Weeks  in  the  Moon 395 

A  Mood  of  Nature  and  of  Man 413 


EPISTLE    DEDICATORY 


PETITION. 


TO    THE   RIGHT   WORSHIPFUL   THE 


MAYOR,  ALDERMEN,  AND    COMMON    COUNCIL 


ANCIENT   CITY   OF   GOTHAM. 


RIGHT  worshipful: 

It  hath  been  from  time  immemorial 
a  subject  of  contention  among  the  learned,  whether 
Osiris,  Confucius,  Zoroaster,  Solon,  Lycurgus,  Draco, 
Numa  Pompilius,  Mahomet,  Peter  the  Great,  Napo- 
leon Bonaparte,  Jeremy  Bentham,  or  the  author  of 
the  New  Charter  of  Gotham,  was,  or  is,  the  greatest 
law-giver.  Without  diving  into  the  abstruse  profund- 
ity of  this  knotty  question,  I  myself  am  of  opinion 
that  it  may  be  easily  settled,  by  putting  them  all  out 
of  sight  at  once,  as  bearing  no  sort  of  comparison,  in 
the  art  of  concocting  numerous  law^s  and  multifarious 
enactments,  with  your  Honours  of  the  Common 
Council.  What  constitutes  greatness,  but  bulk,  num- 
bers, and  dimensions?  And  who,  of  all  legislators 
in  every  age,  can  compare  wdth,  or,  as  the  vulgar  say, 
hold  a  candle  to,  your  Honours,  in  the  length,  breadth, 
profundity,  and  multiplicity  of  your  laws?  I  am 
credibly  informed,  and   do  believe, —  (ii'^iy,  hath  not 


4  EPISTLE   DEDICATORY    AND    PETITION. 

my  former  participation  in  your  counsels  taught  me?) 
—  that,  provided  all  the  enactments  of  your  Honourable 
Body  (which,  like  the  king,  never  dieth)  were  carefully 
collected  in  good  substantial  volumes,  bound  in  calf, 
they  would  build  another  tower  of  Babel,  and  cause 
a  second  confusion  of  tongues,  to  the  utter  discomfit- 
ure and  dispersion  of  the  worthy  citizens  of  Gotham. 
Another  question,  moreover,  hath  from  time  to  time 
sorely  puzzled  the  learned,  to  wit,  whether  offences  do 
not  increase  in  number  exactly  in  proportion  to  the 
multiplication  of  the  laws.  I  myself,  with  due  sub- 
mission, am  inclined  to  believe  that  such  is  actually 
the  case ;  seeing  all  experience  teaches  us  that  there 
is  a  pestilent  itching  in  the  blood  towards  the  practice 
of  disobedience.  To  forbid  children  to  go  out  of  their 
bounds  is,  peradventure,  the  most  powerful  incitement 
to  wandering;  and  to  caution  them  against  dangers 
is  the  infallible  way  of  making  them  run  their  heads 
into  them.  Even  so  with  men  and  women,  who  are 
morally  certain  to  be  put  in  mind  of  the  pleasure  of 
transgressing,  by  the  anticipation  of  punishment. 
They  actually  persuade  themselves  there  must  be 
something  vastly  delectable  in  the  offence,  to  make  it 
necessary  to  denounce  such  severe  penalties  against 
it.  I  do  modestly  assure  your  Honours  that,  no 
longer  ago  than  yesterday,  I  saw  a  child  burn  its  fin- 
gers with  paper,  for  no  other  reason,  that  I  could  per- 
ceive, than  because  the  mother  had  threatened  to 
punish  it  if  it  did  so.  As  a  further  illustration,  I  will, 
with  your  Honours'  permission,  instance  the  example 
of  a  decent,  well-behaved,  and  indeed  exemplary  horse 
I  once  knew,  who  had  been  for  years  accustomed  to 
pasture  at  will,  in   a  common   appertaining  to   our 


EPISTLE   DEDICATORY   AND   PETITION.  5 

township,  open  on  all  sides  to  his  excursions.  Be- 
yond this  he  was  never  known  to  stray  one  step.  But, 
in  process  of  time,  our  little  corporation,  impelled  by 
the  ever-busy  spirit  of  improvement,  unluckily  passed 
a  law  for  enclosing  this  common ;  and,  from  that  fatal 
era,  this  horse  seemed  possessed  with  an  invincible 
and  wicked  propensity  to  trespass  and  go  astray. 
From  being  an  example  to  all  the  animals  of  the 
town,  he  degenerated  into  all  sorts  of  irregularities ; 
was  pounded  three  or  four  times  a  week ;  thrashed 
out  of  enclosures ;  and  cudgelled  from  barn-yards.  Fi- 
nally, as  I  believe,  he  wilfully  drowned  himself  in  a 
swamp,  where  he  never  before  dreamed  of  going. 
Having  thus  illustrated  my  position  by  the  example 
of  both  reason  and  instinct,  I  will  proceed  to  the  prime 
objects  of  this,  my  humble  Epistle  Dedicatory  and  Pe- 
tition. 

And  firstly,  my  request  is,  that  although,  as  I  can- 
not deny,  there  is  a  great  plenty,  not  to  say  supera- 
bundance of  most  valuable  works,  such  as  tracts, 
tales,  romances,  improved  grammars,  spelling-books, 
class-books,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  coming  out 
every  hour  of  the  day ;  yet  is  there  a  certain  class  of 
works,  to  wit,  those  that  nobody  buys  or  reads,  that 
lack  legislative  encouragement  and  protection.  Be- 
sides, your  Honours,  even  if  this  were  not  the  case, 
your  Honours  must  be  fully  aware  that  there  are  cer- 
tain good  things  of  which  the  world  cannot  have  too 
many,  such  as  laws,  colleges,  paper  dollars  and  paper 
books.  If  one  law  is  not  sufficient,  the  spirit  of  the  age 
requires  another  exactly  opposite  in  its  provisions,  so 
that,  approaching  as  they  do  both  before  and  behind, 
it  is  next  to  impossible  for  a  criminal  to  escape.     So, 


6  EPISTLE   DEDICATORY   AND   PETITION. 

if  there  is  not  sufficient  liberality  in  the  public,  or  suf- 
ficient love  of  learned  lore,  to  afford  encouragement 
to  one  university,  the  only  remedy  for  such  sore  evils 
is  to  establish  another.  Between  two  stools  we  must 
certainly  fall  to  the  earth,  which  every  body  knows  is 
the  most  solid  foundation  after  all  for  learning.  In 
respect  to  paper-money,  it  is  quite  a  sufficient  indica- 
tion of  the  necessity  of  having  plenty  of  that  invalua- 
ble commodity,  to  instance  the  avidity  of  every  body 
for  more.  Besides,  if  it  were  not  for  the  establish- 
ment of  new  banks,  in  a  little  while  we  should  have 
no  paper-money  at  all,  seeing  the  number  of  old  ones 
that  become  bankrupt  every  day.  The  wear  and  tear 
of  these  useful  manufactories  of  paper  is  such  as  to 
require  perpetual  repairs.  So  with  books  :  being,  for 
the  most  part,  forgot  in  a  few  weeks,  in  consequence 
of  the  perpetual  supplies  of  novelty,  it  necessarily  be- 
comes proper  to  apply  new  stimulants  to  the  spirit  of 
the  age  and  development  of  the  human  mind.  The 
May-Hies,  that  live  but  for  a  day,  are  as  the  sands  of  the 
sea  in  number,  and  are  succeeded,  hour  after  hour,  by 
new  generations  of  insects,  who  glitter  in  the  noontide 
sun,  and  perish  in  the  first  dews  of  the  evening. 

Now,  forasmuch  as  this  multiplication  and  quick 
succession  of  new  books  is  calculated  to  interfere  with, 
and  circumscribe  the  circulation  of,  this  my  work, 
which  I  now  lay  at  the  feet  of  your  Honours'  munifi- 
cence, I  humbly  beseech  your  Honours  to  afford  it 
your  special  protection,  in  the  manner  and  form  fol- 
lowing, to  wit : 

First.  That  you  will  cause  your  Finance- Committee 
to  subscribe  for  a  thousand,  or  (not  to  be  particular) 
two  thousand,  copies,  and  direct  a  warrant  to  be  is- 


EPISTLE   DEDICATOEY   AND   PETITION.  7 

sued  in  favour  of  your  petitioner  for  the  amount. 
Professing  himself  a  reasonable  man,  he  hereby  re- 
linquishes all  right  of  demanding  that  your  Honours 
shall  read  them. 

Secondly.  That  your  Honours  will  refer  the  his- 
torical piece,  entitled  and  called,  "  Jonathan's  Visit  to 
the  Celestial  Empire,"  in  this  my  book,  to  the  Water- 
Committee,  with  directions  to  report  definitively  a  fa- 
vourable criticism  on  its  merits,  sometime  in  the 
course  of  the  present  century,  or  as  soon  thereafter  as 
practicable. 

Thirdly.  That  your  Honours  will  be  pleased  to 
refer  the  memoir  of  Haschbash,  the  pearl-diver,  unto 
the  Committee  on  Applications  for  office,  with  peremp- 
tory directions  to  nominate  your  petitioner  to  some 
good  fat  place,  with  a  liberal  salary  and  nothing  to 
do.  Your  humble  petitioner,  being  by  profession  an 
anti-busybody,  will  engage  to  neglect  his  duties  equal- 
ly with  any  man  living,  except,  perhaps,  certain  of  the 
Street- Inspectors. 

Fourthly.  That  your  munificent,  patriotic,  and  law- 
giving Honours,  will  in  like  manner  refer  the  elaborate 
itinerary,  styled,  "The  New  IVIirror  for  Travellers.", 
to  a  special  Committee  of  Silence,  with  instructions 
to  say  nothing  on  the  subject.  If  a  sufficient  num- 
ber of  silent  members  cannot  be  detected  in  your 
Honourable  Body,  your  Honours  will  find  plenty  in 
Congress. 

Fifthly.  That  your  Honourable  Body  will  gra- 
ciously instruct  the  Committee  of  Arrangements  for 
the  fourth  of  July  and  other  masticatory  celebrations, 
not  to  forget  to  invite  your  petitioner  to  the  aforesaid 
jolly  anniversaries,  as  hath  been  the  case  ever  since 


8  EPISTLE   DEDICATORY   AND   PETITION. 

he  had  the  misfortune  to  empty  a  bottle  of  champagne 
into  the  right  worshipful  pocket  of  the  late  worthy 
and  lamented  Alderman  Quackenbush,  of  immortal 
memory. 

Sixthly.  That  your  munificent  Honours,  being  the 
patrons  of  literature,  the  fine  arts,  and  the  like,  will, 
as  an  honourable  testimony  to  the  benefits  this  his 
work  is  likely  to  shower  on  the  present  age  and  on 
posterity,  confer  immortality  on  your  humble  peti- 
tioner, by  voting  him  the  freedom  of  the  city  in  a 
gold  box,  taking  especial  care  that  it  be  not  too  large 
to  be  converted  into  a  convenient  snufi'box. 

Lastly.  That  your  munificent  Honours  will  take 
compassion  on  all  idle  and  useless  citizens  and  stran- 
gers, who,  having  (like  your  petitioner)  nothing  to  do, 
are  very  apt  to  get  tired ;  and,  in  due  time,  cause  to 
be  constructed  a  suitable  number  of  cosy  seats  on 
the  Battery,  well  lined  and  stuffed,  with  seemly  high 
backs,  for  our  special  and  exclusive  accommodation. 
If  your  illustrious  and  industrious  Honours  only  knew 
how  idle  your  petitioner  is,  and  what  a  horror  he  hath 
of  a  hard  bench  without  a  back,  you  would  shed  tears 
at  beholding  him  luxuriating  in  agony  on  the  Bat- 
tery in  the  beautiful  summer  twilight.  Many  a  wor- 
thy citizen,  as  he  verily  believes,  hath  been  driven  to 
the  most  enormous  excesses  of  tippling  and  debauch- 
ery, by  the  utter  impossibility  of  obtaining  a  mo- 
ment's ease  and  relaxation  upon  those  instruments  of 
torture,  miscalled  benches,  and,  in  a  paroxysm  of  im- 
patience, cast  himself  utterly  away  upon  the  quick- 
sands of  Castle  Garden  or  the  Battery  Hotel. 
And  your  petitioner  shall  ever  vote,  &c. 


THE 


NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS; 


GUIDE    TO    THE    SPRINGS. 


"adieu  la  boutique! 


PEEFACE 


THE    NEW    MIRROR    FOR    TRAVELLERS. 


Ever  since  the  invention  of  steam-engines,  steam- 
boats, steam-carriages,  Liverpool  packets,  railroads, 
and  other  delightful  facilities  for  travelling,  the  march 
of  the  hmnan  body  has  kept  pace  with  the  march  of 
the  human  mind,  so  that  it  is  now  a  moot  point  which 
gets  on  the  faster.  If  the  body  moves  at  the  rate  of 
fifteen  miles  an  hour,  the  mind  advances  in  an  equal 
pace,  and  children  of  sixteen  are  in  a  fair  way  to 
become  wiser  than  their  grandfathers.  While  the 
grown-up  gentleman  goes  to  Albany  in  twelve  hours, 
and  comes  back  in  forty-eight  with  a  charter  in  his 
pocket,  the  aspiring  school-boy  smatters  a  language, 
or  conquers  a  science,  by  the  aid  of  those  vast  im- 
provements in  the  ^' machinery  ^^  of  the  mind,  which 
have  immortalized  the  age.  In  fact,  there  seems  to  be 
a  race  between  matter  and  mind,  and  there  is  no  tell- 
ing which  will  come  out  first  in  the  end. 

Legislators  and  philosophers  may  flatter  themselves 
as  they  will,  but  they  have  little  influence  in  shaping 
this  world.     The  inventors  of  paper-money,  cotton- 


12  PREFACE   TO 

machinery,  steam  -  engines,  and  steam  -  boats,  have 
caused  a  greater  revolution  in  the  habits,  opinions 
and  morals  of  mankind,  than  all  the  systems  of  phi- 
losophy, aided  by  all  the  efforts  of  legislation.  Ma- 
chinery and  steam-engines  have  had  more  influence 
on  the  Christian  world  than  Locke's  metaphysics, 
Napoleon's  code,  or  Jeremy  Bentham's  codification ; 
and  we  have  heard  a  great  advocate  for  domestic 
manufactures  predict,  that  the  time  was  not  far  dis- 
tant when  men  and  women  and  children  would  be  of 
no  use  but  to  construct  and  attend  upon  machinery 
—  when  spinning-jennies  would  become  members  of 
Congress,  and  the  United  States  be  governed  by  a 
steam-engine  of  a  hundred  and  twenty  horse  power. 
We  confess  ourselves  not  quite  so  sanguine,  but  will 
go  so  far  as  to  say,  that  we  believe  the  time  may 
come  when  a  long  speech  will  be  spun  out  of  a  bale 
of  cotton  by  a  spinning-jenny;  a  president  of  the 
United  States  be  made  by  a  combination  of  ma- 
chinery ;  and  Mynheer  Maelzel  be  beaten  at  chess  by 
his  own  automaton. 

Without  diving  deeper  into  such  speculations,  or 
tracing  the  effects  of  these  vast  improvements  in  the 
condition  of  mankind,  who  will  soon  have  nothing  to 
do  but  tend  upon  machinery,  we  shall  content  our- 
selves with  observing  that  the  wonderful  facilities  for 
locomotion  furnished  by  modern  ingeiuiity  have  in- 
creased the  number  of  travellers  to  such  a  degree,  that 
they  now  constitute  a  large  portion  of  the  human  fam- 
ily. All  ages  and  sexes  are  to  be  found  on  the  wing, 
in  perpetual  motion  from  place  to  place.  Little  ba- 
bies are  seen  crying  their  way  in  steam-boats,  whose 
cabins  are  like  so  many  nurseries  —  people  who  are 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  13 

the  most  comfortable  at  home,  are  now  most  fond  of 
going  abroad  —  the  spruce  shopman  exclaims, "  Adieu 
La  Boutique,"  and  leaves  the  shop-boy  to  cheat  the 
town  for  him  —  the  young  belle,  tired  of  seeing  and 
being  seen  in  Broadway,  breaks  forth  in  all  her  glories 
in  a  new  place  at  five  hundred  miles  distance  —  bed- 
rid age  musters  its  last  energies  for  an  expedition 
to  West  Point,  or  the  Grand  Canal  —  and  even  the 
thrifty  housewife  of  the  villages  on  the  banks  of  the 
Hudson,  who  heretofore  was  "  all  one  as  a  piece  of 
the  house,"  thinks  nothing  of  risking  a  blow-up,  or  a 
break-down,  in  making  a  voyage  to  New  York  to  sell 
a  pair  of  mittens,  or  buy  a  paper  of  pins.  We  have 
heard  a  great  political  economist  assert,  that  the 
money  spent  in  travelling  between  New  York  and 
Albany,  in  the  last  fifteen  years,  would  go  near  to 
maintain  all  the  paupers  of  the  United  States,  in  that, 
the  purest  possible,  state  of  independence  —  to  wit,  a 
freedom  from  an  ignominious  dependence  on  labour 
and  economy.  It  is  high  time,  therefore,  that  the 
wandering  Arabs  of  the  West  should  have  a  code  of 
laws  and  regulations  for  their  especial  government; 
and  the  principal  design  of  the  present  work  is  to  sup- 
ply this  desideratum. 

We  have  accordingly  prepared  a  system  of  jurispru-' 
dence,  which,  we  flatter  ourselves,  will  not  suffer  in 
comparison,  either  with  the  code  Napoleon,  the  code 
Bentham,  or  any  other  code  which  the  march  of  mind 
hath  begotten  on  the  progress  of  public  improvement 
in  the  present  age.  The  traveller,  if  we  mistake  not, 
will  find  in  it  ample  instructions,  as  to  his  outfit  in 
setting  forth  for  unknown  parts  —  the  places  and 
things  most  worthy  of  attention  in   his  route  —  the 


14  PREFACE   TO 

deportment  proper  in  divers  new  and  untried  situa- 
tions—  and,  above  all,  critical  and  minute  instruc- 
tions concerning  those  exquisite  delights  of  the  palate 
which  constitute  the  principal  object  of  all  travellers 
of  taste. 

In  addition  to  this,  we  have  omitted  no  opportunity 
of  inculcating  a  passion  for  travelling,  which,  from 
long  and  laborious  experience,  we  pronounce  the  most 
exquisite  mode  of  killing  time  and  spending  money 
ever  yet  devised  by  lazy  ingenuity.  It  would  occupy 
our  whole  book,  (which  is  restricted  to  a  certain  bulk, 
so  as  not  to  interfere  with  the  ladies'  bandboxes  and 
the  gentlemen's  trunks),  were  we  to  indulge  in  a  sum- 
mary of  all  the  delights  and  advantages  of  seeing  new 
and  distant  parts.  Unfortunately  for  us,  we  write 
solely  for  the  benefit  of  the  world,  holding  our  own 
especial  emolument  in  sovereign  contempt ;  and,  still 
more  unfortunately,  if  this  were  not  the  case,  we  be- 
long not  to  that  favoured  class  of  writers  who  can 
take  the  liberty  of  publishing  in  six  royal  octavos 
matter  which  might  be  compressed  into  one.  We  have 
only  space  to  observe,  that  a  man  who  has  travelled 
to  good  purpose,  and  made  a  proper  use  of  his  oppor- 
tunities, may  commit  as  many  blunders  and  tell  as 
many  good  stories  as  he  pleases,  provided  he  confines 
himself  to  places  where  he  has  been  and  his  hearers 
have  not.  Books  are  of  no  authority  in  opposition  to 
an  eye-witness ;  who  is,  as  it  were,  like  so  many  of 
our  great  politicians,  ex  officio^  a  judge  of  every  thing. 

Two  persons  were  once  disputing,  in  a  large  com- 
pany, about  the  Venus  de  Medici.  One  maintained 
that  her  head  inclined  a  little  forward  to  the  right, 
the  other  that  it  inclined  to  the  left.     One  had  read 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  15 

Winkelmann,  and  a  hundred  other  descriptions  of  the 
statue.  The  other  had  never  read  a  book  in  his  life ; 
but  he  had  been  at  Florence,  and  had  looked  at  the 
Venus  for  at  least  five  minutes. 

"  My  dear  sir,  /  ouglit  to  know ;  for  I  have  read  all 
the  books  that  ever  were  written  on  the  Venus  de 
Medici." 

"  My  dear  sir,  I  must  know ;  for  I  have  been  at 
Florence,  and  seen  her." 

Here  was  an  end  of  the  argument.  All  the  com- 
pany was  perfectly  satisfied  that  the  man  who  had 
seen  with  his  own  eyes  was  right  —  and  yet  he  was 
wrong.  But  seeing  is  believing,  and  being  believed 
too.  You  may  doubt  what  a  man  affirms  on  the  au- 
thority of  another ;  but,  if  he  says  he  has  seen  the  sea- 
serpent,  to  question  his  veracity  is  to  provoke  a  quarrel. 
Such  are  the  advantages  of  seeing  with  our  own  eyes  I 
Let  us  therefore  set  out  without  delay  on  the  Grand 
Northern  Tour. 


THE 


NEW   MIRROR  FOR   TRAVELLERS,  &o. 


In  compiling  and  excogitating  this  work,  we  have 
considered  ourselves  as  having  no  manner  of  concern 
with  travellers  until  they  arrive  in  the  city  of  New 
York,  where  we  intend  to  take  them  under  our  espe- 
cial protection.  Doubtless,  in  proceeding  from  the 
south,  there  are  various  objects  worth  the  attention 
of  the  traveller,  who  may  take  the  opportunity  of 
stopping  to  change  horses  or  to  dine,  to  look  round 
him  a  little,  and  see  what  is  to  be  seen.  But,  gener- 
ally speaking,  all  is  lost  time  until  he  arrives  at  New 
York,  of  which  it  may  justly  be  said,  that  as  Paris  is 
France,  so  New  York  is — New  York.  It  is  here 
then  that  we  take  the  fashionable  tourist  by  the  hand 
and  assume  the  rule  of  cicerone. 

The  city  of  New  York,  to  which  all  travellers  of 
taste  resort  from  the  remotest  corners  of  the  earth, 
and  from  whence  they  set  out  on  what  is  emphati- 
cally called  the  Great  Northern  Tour,  is  situated  at 
the  confluence  of  two  noble  waters,  and  about  eigh- 
teen miles  from  the  Atlantic  Ocean.  But  we  have 
always  thought  it  a  singular  piece  of  impertinence  in 
the  compilers  of  road-books,  itineraries,  and  guides, 

2 


18  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

to  take  up  the  traveller's  time  in  describing  things  he 
came  expressly  to  see,  and  shall  therefore  confine  our- 
selves to  matters  more  occult,  and  inaccessible  to  tran- 
sient sojourners.  New  York,  though  a  very  honest 
and  well-intentioned  city  as  times  go,  (with  the  ex- 
ception of  Wall  Street,  which  labours  under  a  sort  of 
a  shadow  of  suspicion),  has  changed  its  name  almost 
as  often  as  some  graceless  rogues,  though  doubtless 
not  for  the  same  reasons.  The  Indian  name  was 
Manhadoes;  the  Dutch  called  it  New  Amsterdam 
and  New  Orange ;  the  English,  New  York,  which 
name  all  the  world  knows  it  still  retains.  In  1673,  it 
was  a  small  village,  and  the  richest  man  in  it  was 
Frederick  Philipse,  or  Flypse^  who  was  rated  at  eigh- 
ty thousand  guilders.  Now  it  is  the  greatest  city  of 
the  new  world ;  the  third,  if  not  the  second,  in  com- 
merce, of  all  the  world,  old  and  new ;  and,  there  are 
men  in  it,  who  were  yesterday  worth  millions  of  guil- 
ders —  in  paper-money :  what  they  may  be  worth 
to-morrow,  we  can't  say,  as  that  will  depend  on  a 
speculation.  In  1660,  the  salaries  of  ministers  and 
public  officers  were  paid  in  beaver  skins :  now  they 
are  paid  in  bank-notes.  The  beaver  sldns  were  al- 
ways worth  the  money,  which  is  more  than  can  be 
said  of  the  bank-notes.  New  York  contains  one  uni- 
versity, and  two  medical  colleges ;  the  latter  always 
struggling  with  each  other  in  a  noble  spirit  of  gen- 
erous, scientific  emulation.  There  are  twenty-two 
banks  —  good,  bad,  and  indifferent;  forty-three  insu- 
rance companies  —  solvent  and  insolvent;  and  one 
public  library  :  from  whence  it  may  be  reasonably 
inferred,  that  money  is  plenty  as  dirt — insurance- 
bonds   still  more   so  —  and  that  both    are   held  in 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  19 

greater  estimation  than  learning.     There  are  also  one 
hundred  churches,  and  about  as  many  lottery-offices, 
which  accounts  for  the  people  of  New  York  being  so 
!  much  better  than  their  neighbours. 

In  addition  to  all  these,  there  is  an  academy  of  arts, 

,  an  athenaeum,  and  several  other  institutions  for  the 

I  discouragement  of  literature,  the   arts,  and  sciences. 

The  academy  languishes  under  the  patronage  of — 

;  names.     The  athenaeum  is  a  place  where  one  may 

always   meet  with   La  Belle  Assemble,  Ackerman's 

Magazine,  and  the  last  number  of  Blackwood.     In 

:  addition  to  these  places   of  popular  amusement  and 

j  recreation.  New  York  supports  six  theatres,  of  vari- 

i  ous  kinds :  from  whence  it  may  be  inferred,  that  the 

j  people   are  almost  as  fond  of  theatres   as   churches. 

'  There  was  an   Italian  opera   last  year.      But,  Uheu 

fugaceSj   Fosthume !,   the   birds    are   flown    to    other 

!  climes. 

i       Besides  these   attractions  and  ten  thousand  more, 
[  New  York  abounds  beyond  all  other  places  in  the 
[  universe,  not  excepting  Paris,  in  consummate  institu- 
i  tions  for  cultivating  the  noble  science  of  gastronomy. 
,  The   soul  of   Heliogabalus  presides  in  the   kitchens 
\  of  our  hotels   and  boarding-houses,  and  inspires  the 
genius  of  a  thousand  cooks  —  not  sent  by  the  devil, 
;  as  the   old  proverb  infamously  asserts,  but  by  some 
special  dispensation.     There  too  will  be  found  can- 
vas-backs   from    the     Susquehanna;    venison    from 
j  Jersey,    Long     Island,    and    Catskill;    grouse    from 
Hempstead  Plains ;   snipe  from  the  Newark   mead- 
ows ;  and  partridges  from  Bull  Hill ;  which  last,  if 
the    gourmand    hath    never    eaten,  let   him   despair. 
Then,  as  for  fish!  —  O  for  a  mouth  to  eat,  or  to  utter 


20  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

the  names  of,  the  fish  that  flutter  in  the  markets  of 
New  York,  silently  awaiting  their  customers  like  so 
many  pupils  of  Pythagoras.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  keep 
Lent  here.  It  is  impossible  to  enumerate  them  all: 
but  we  should  consider  ourselves  the  most  ungrateful 
of  mankind,  were  we  to  omit  making  honourable 
mention  of  the  inimitable  trout  from  the  Fire))lace, 
whose  pure  waters  are  alone  worthy  the  gambols  of 
these  sportive  Undinae ;  or  of  the  amiable  sheep's- 
head,  whose  teeth  project  out  of  his  mouth  as  if  to  in- 
dicate that  he  longs  to  be  eating  up  himself;*  or  of 
the  blackfish,  which  offers  a  convincing  proof  that 
nature  knows  no  distinction  of  colours,  and  has  made 
the  black  skin  equal  to  the  white  —  at  least  among 
fishes;  or  of  the  dehcious  bass  —  the  toothsome  shad 
—  and  the  majestic  cod,  from  the  banks  of  New- 
foundland, doubly  remarkable,  as  being  almost  the 
only  good  that  ever  came  of  banks.  All  these,  to- 
gether with  countless  varieties  of  smaller  fry,  offer 
themselves  spontaneously  to  the  experienced  connois- 
seur, a  new  delicacy  for  every  day  in  the  year.  We 
invoke  them  all!  —  thee,  sea-green  lobster  of  the 
Sound,  best-beloved  of  southern  invalids,  a  supper  of 
whom  is  a  sovereign  cure  for  dyspepsia;  thee  lus- 
cious soft-crab,  the  discovery  of  whose  unequalled 
excellence  has  made  the  city  of  Baltimore  immortal; 
catfish  and  flounder,  slippery  eel  and  rough-shelled 
mussel;  elephant-clam,  which  the  mischievous  boys 
of  the  Sound  call  by  a  more  inglorious  name;  —  we 
invoke  ye  all !  And  if  we  forget  thee,  O  most  puis- 
sant and  imperial  oyster,  whether  of  Blue  Point,  York 

*  The  unlearned  traveller  Avill  be  careful  not  to  confound  the  sheep's- 
head,  with  the  head  of  a  sheep,  as  did  the  honest  Irishman  at  Norfolk. 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  21 

River,  Chingoteague,  or  Chingarora,  may  our  palate 
forget  its  cunning,  and  lose  the  best  gift  of  heaven  — 
the    faculty  of  distinguishing  between    six   different 
Madeira  wines,  with  our  eyes  shut!     All  these  and 
!  more  may  be  seen  of  a  morning  at  Fulton  and  Wash- 
ington Markets;  and  the  traveller  who  shall  go  away 
without  visiting  them  has  travelled  in  vain. 
[       Then,  for  cooking  these  various  and  transcendent 
i  excellencies,  these   precious   bounties  —  Thee  we  in- 
!  voke  —  thee  of  the  Bank  Coffee  House^  who  excellest 
'  equally  in  the  sublime  sciences  of  procuring  and  serv- 
;  ing   up   these   immortal    dishes,   and    hast    no   equal 
'  among  men,  but  the  great   Sykes,  with  whom  thou 
didst  erewhile  divide  the  empire  of  the  world.     But, 
Eheufiirjaces^  Posthume,  too !  the  smoke  of  his  kitchen, 
which  bore  up  incense  worthy  of  the  gods,  is  now  gone 
out —  he  himself  is  like  a  shadow  long  departed,  and 
nothing  is  left  of  him  but  the  recollection  of  his  sup- 
pers  and   his  debts.     Neither  must  we   commit  the 
cryiijg  sin  of  passing  unnoticed  and  unhonoured  the 
utterly  famous   gastronomium   of  the    great    Droze, 
master  of  the  twelve  sciences  that  go  to  the  composi- 
tion of  a  consummate  cook;  nor  the  flagrant  injustice 
of  omitting  to  point  the  nose  of  the  curious  traveller 
to  Him  of  the  New  Masonic  Hall*  great  in  terrapin 
soup  —  greater  in  fricassees  and  fricandeaux  —  great- 
est of  all  in  a  calf's  head!     Neither  would  we  pass 
over   the  modest  merits  of  him  of  the   Goose  and 
Gridiron,  who,  like  the    skilful   logician,  can  make 
the  worse  appear  the  better  reason,  and  convert,  by 

[*  Tliis  building  stood  on  the  East  side  of  Broadway,  a  little  South  of 
Pearl  street.  It  is  figured  and  described  in  the  New-York  Mirror  of  Septem- 
ber 26,  1829.] 


22  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

the  magic  of  his  art,  material  no  more  than  so-so  into 
dishes  worthy  the  palates  of  the  most  erudite  mem- 
bers of  the  Turtle  Club,  whose  soup  and  whose  jests 
are  the  delight  of  the  universe.  But  we  should  never 
have  done,  were  we  to  pass  in  review  an  hundred,  yea, 
a  thousand  illustrious  worthies,  to  be  found  in  every 
street  and  lane  of  this  eating  city,  who  tickle  the  cun- 
ning palate  in  all  the  varieties  of  purse  and  taste,  from 
a  slice  of  roast  beef  and  a  glass  of  beer,  at  a  shilling, 
to  grouse  and  canvas-backs,  and  Bingham  wine,  at 
just  as  much  as  the  landlord  pleases.  Suffice  it  to 
say,  that  if,  as  the  best  practical  philosophers  do 
maintain,  the  business  of  man's  life  is  eating,  there  is 
no  place  in  the  universe  where  he  can  live  to  such 
exquisite  purpose  as  in  the  renowned  city  of  New 
York.  We  have  heard  it  confessed  by  divers  morose 
Englishmen,  who  had  eaten  and  grumbled  their  way 
through  all  parts  of  Europe  where  there  was  any 
thing  to  eat,  that  they  nowhere  found  such  glorious 
content  of  the  palate  as  at  this  happy  emporium  of 
all  good  things.  If  any  corroboration  of  this  testi- 
mony should  be  thought  necessary,  we  will  add  the 
experience  of  twenty-five  years  of  travel  in  various 
countries,  during  which  we  have  tasted,  by  actual 
computation,  upwards  of  five  thousand  different 
dishes.  Still  further,  to  establish  the  glories  of  our 
favourite  city,  we  will  addufce  the  authority  of  a 
young  gentleman,  who  travelled  several  years  on  the 
continent,  and  approved  himself  a  competent  gour- 
mand, by  bringing  home  a  confirmed  dyspepsia.  He 
has  permitted  us  to  insert  a  letter  written  originally 
to  a  friend  at  the  south,  which,  besides  setting  forth 
the  excellent  attractions  of  New  York,  exemplifies  in 


THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  23 

a  most  striking  manner  the  benefits  derived  from 
travel,  which  improving  divertisement  it  is  the  design 
of  our  work  to  encom-age  and  provoke  by  all  manner 
of  means.  Truly  did  the  great  philosopher  and  mor- 
alist, Dr.  Johnson,  who  passed  all  his  life  in  the  fear 
of  death,  truly  did  he  inculcate  the  superiority  of  the 
knowledge  derived  from  seeing^  to  all  other  knowl- 
edge. Who  that  hath  visited  the  grand  opera  at 
Paris,  but  will  have,  all  his  life  after,  a  more  vivid 
impression  of  legs!  Who  that  hath  expatiated  in 
the  vast  eating-houses  of  New  York  and  Paris,  but 
will  cherish  an  increasing  faith  in  the  primary  impor- 
tance of  the  noble  science  of  gastronomy !  And  who, 
that  has  once  beheld  the  magnificent  contrast  be- 
tween the  king  and  his  beggarly  subjects  in  some 
parts  of  the  old  world,  but  must  feel  ennobled  by  the 
example  of  what  human  nature  is  capable  of,  if  prop- 
erly cultivated!  But  to  our  purpose.  The  letter 
alluded  to  is  one  of  a  series  written  by  the  members 
of  a  most  respectable  family  from  the  south,  to  which 
we  have  politely  been  permitted  access,  and  from 
which  we  shall  occasionally  borrow  some  others. 


STEPHEN  GRIFFEN,  ESQ.  TO  FRAXK  LATHAM. 

Xew  York,  — 


Verily,  Frank,  this  same  New  York  is  a  place  that 
may  be  tolerated  for  a  few  weeks,  with  the  assistance 
of  the  Signorina,  the  unequalled  cookery,  and  above 

all  the  divine  Madame .     Only  think  of  a  real, 

genuine  opera-dancer  in  these  parts !  Five  years  ago, 
I  should  as  soon  have  expected  to  see  an  Indian  war- 
dance  at  the  Thedtre  Frangais.     It  is  really  a  vast 


24  THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

comfort  to  have  something  one  can  relish  after  Paris. 
I  think  it  bad  policy  for  a  young  fellow  to  go  abroad, 
miless  he  can  afford  to  spend  the  rest  of  his  life  in 
New  York.  Coming  home  to  a  country  life  is  like 
going  from  high-seasoned  dishes  to  ham  and  chickens. 
Such  polite  people  as  one  meets  with  abroad !  they 
never  contradict  you  as  long  as  you  pay  them  what 
they  ask  for  everything; — such  a  variety  of  dishes 
to  eat !  why,  Frank,  a  bill  of  fare  at  a  Parisian  hotel 
is  as  long  as  a  list  of  the  passengers  in  Noah's  ark  or 
a  Liverpool  packet,  and  comprehends  as  great  a  diver- 
sity of  animals.  Nothing  can  equal  it,  except  New 
York.  And  then,  such  a  succession  of  amusements ! 
Nobody  ever  yawned  in  Paris,  except  one  of  the  real 
John  Bulls,  some  of  whom  have  their  mouths  always 
open,  either  to  eat  or  yawn.  To  see  a  fat  fellow  gap- 
ing in  the  Louvre,  you  would  think  he  came  there  to 
catch  flies,  as  the  alligators  do,  by  lying  with  their 
jaws  extended  half  a  yard.  How  I  love  to  recall  the 
dear  delights  of  the  grand  tour  I  —  and,  as  I  write  at 
thee,  not  to  thee,  Frank,  I  will  incontinently  please 
myself  at  this  present,  by  recapitulating,  if  it  be  only 
to  refresh  my  memory  and  make  thee  miserable  at 
thy  utter  ignorance  of  the  world. 

I  staid  abroad  six  years ;  just  long  enough  to  cast 
my  skin,  or  shed  my  shell,  as  the  snakes  and  crabs  do 
every  now  and  then.  In  France,  I  threw  away  my 
clod-hopping  shoes,  and  learned  to  dance.  I  got  a 
new  stomach  too,  for  I  took  vastly  to  Messrs.  the 
restaurateurs.  In  Italy,  I  was  drawn  up  the  Apen- 
nines by  six  horses  and  two  pair  of  oxen,  and  went  to 
sleep  every  day  for  three  weeks,  at  the  feet  of  the  Ve- 
nus de  Medici.     There  were  other  Venuses  at  whose 


THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  25 

feet  I  did  not  go  to  sleep.  I  was,  moreover,  deeply 
inoculated,  or  rather,  as  the  real  genuine  phrase  is, 
vaccinated,  with  a  raving  taste  for  music,  and  opera- 
dancing,  which  last,  in  countries  where  refinement  is 
got  to  such  a  pitch  that  nobody  thinks  of  blushing, 
is  worth,  as  Mr.  Jefferson  says  of  Harper's  Ferry,  "  a 
voyage  across  the  Atlantic."  By  the  way,  they  have 
an  excellent  custom  in  Europe,  which  puts  all  the 
women  on  a  par.  They  paint  their  faces  so  that  one 
can't  tell  whether  they  blush  or  not.  Impudence  and 
modesty  are  thus  on  a  level,  and  all  is  as  it  should 
be. 

Italy  is  indeed  a  fine  place.  The  women  are  so 
sociable^  and  the  men  so  polite.  France  does  pretty 
well ;  but  even  there  they  sometimes  —  particularly 
since  the  hrutifying  revolution  —  they  sometimes  so 
far  forget  themselves  as  to  feel  dishonour  and  resent 
insult.  All  this  is  owing  to  the  bad  example  of  that 
upstart  Napoleon,  and  his  upstart  officers.  Now,  in 
Italy,  when  a  gentleman  of  substance  takes  an  afiront, 
he  does  not  dirty  his  fingers  with  the  afiair ;  he  hh-es 
me  a  fellow  whose  trade  is  killing,  and  there  is  an 
end  of  the  matter.  Then  it  is  such  a  cheap  country. 
Every  thing  is  cheap,  and  women  the  cheapest  of 
all.  Everything  there,  except  pagan  antiques,  is  for 
sale ;  and  you  can  buy  heaven  of  his  holiness,  for  a 
hundred  times  less  money  than  it  costs  to  purchase 
the  torso  of  a  heathen  god  without  legs  or  arms. 

In  Germany,  and  especially  at  Vienna,  they  are 
excessively  devout,  and  —  what  I  assure  you  is,  in 
very  refined  countries,  not  in  the  least  incompatible 
—  exceedingly  profligate  at  the  same  time.  I  mean 
among  the  higher  ranks.     This  is  one  of  the  great 


26  THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

secrets  a  young  fellow  learns  by  going  abroad.  If  he 
makes  good  use  of  his  time,  his  talents,  and,  above 
all,  his  money,  he  will  discover  the  secret  of  recon- 
ciling a  breach  of  the  whole  decalogue  with  the  most 
exemplary  piety.  When  I  was  first  in  Vienna,  they 
had  the  Mozart  fever,  and  half  the  city  was  dying  of 
it.  On  my  second  visit,  Beethoven  was  all  the  vogue. 
He  was  as  deaf  as  a  post  —  yet  played  and  composed 
divinely;  a  proof — you,  being  of  the  pure  6^o//a'c,  will 
say  —  that  music  can  be  no  great  science,  since  it 
requires  neither  ears  nor  understanding.  Beethoven 
had  a  long  beard,  and  a  most  ferocious  countenance ; 
there  was  no  more  music  in  it  than  in  a  lion's.  He 
was  moreover  excessively  rude  and  disobliging,  and 
would  not  play  for  the  emperor  unless  he  was  in  the 
humour.  These  peculiarities  made  him  irresistible. 
The  Beethvoven  fever  was  worse  than  the  Mozart 
fever,  a  great  deal.  I  ventured  a  third  time  to  Vienna 
—  and  Beethoven  was  starving.  They  were  all  run- 
ning after  a  great  preacher,  who,  from  being  the  edi- 
tor of  a  liberal  paper,  had  turned  monk,  and  preached 
in  favour  of  the  divine  right  of  the  emperor,  notwith- 
standing the  diet  and  all  that  sort  of  trumpery.  But 
music  is  their  passion:  it  is  the  source  of  their  na- 
tional pride. 

I  once  said  to  a  worthy  banker  who  had  charge  of 
my  purse-strings  — "  Really,  monsieur,  you  are  very 
loose  in  your  morals,  here."  "  Yes,  but  we  are  the 
most  musical  people  in  the  world  ",  replied  he  trium- 
phantly. "  Your  married  ladies  of  fashion  have  such 
crowds  of  lovers."  "  Yes,  but  then  they  are  so  musi- 
cal." "  And  then,  from  the  prime  minister  Prince 
Metternich  downwards,  every  man  of  the  least  fash- 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  27 

ion  is  an  intriguer  among  women."  "  True,  my  dear 
sir:,  but  then  Prince  Metternich  has  a  private  opera- 
house,  and  you  hear  the  divinest  music  there."  "  And 
then  the  peasantry  are  in  such  a  poor  condition  —  so 
ignorant."  "  Ignorant,  sir  —  you  mistake  —  there  is 
hardly  one  of  them  but  can  read  music ! "  Music 
covers  a  multitude  of  sins  at  Vienna.  It  is  worth 
while  to  go  to  Vienna  only  to  see  the  peasantry  — 
the  female  peasantry  from  the  country,  with  bags, 
picking  up  manure,  and  singing  perhaps  an  air  of 
Mozart  or  Beethoven. 

In  England  I  got  the  last  polish  —  that  is  to  say,  I 
learned  to  box  enough  to  get  a  black  eye  now  and 
then,  in  a  set-to  with  a  hackney-coachman,  or  an 
insolent  child  of  the  night — videlicet,  a  watchman. 
Moreover,  I  learned  to  give  an  uncivil  answer  to  a 
civil  question ;  to  contradict  without  ceremony ;  to 
believe  that  an  American  mammoth  was  not  half  so 
big  as  a  Teeswater  bull ;  that  one  canal  was  worth  a 
dozen  rivers ;  that  a  railroad  was  stiU  better  than  a 
canal,  and  a  tunnel  better  than  either;  that  M'Adam 
was  a  greater  man  than  the  Colossus  of  Rhodes ;  that 
liberty  was  upon  the  whole  rather  a  vulgar,  ill-bred 
minx ;  and  that  a  nation  without  a  king  and  nobility 
was  no  better  than  a  human  body  wanting  that  abso- 
lute requisite,  the  seat  of  honour.  Finally,  I  brought 
home  a  great  number  of  clever  improvements  —  to  wit, 
a  head  enlightened  with  a  hundred  conflicting  notions 
of  religion,  government,  morals,  music,  painting,  and 
what  not ;  and  a  heart  divested  of  all  those  vulgarisms 
concerning  love  of  country,  with  which  young  Ameri- 
cans are  apt  to  be  im pestered  at  home.  Thus,  I  may 
say  I  got  rid  of  all  my  home-bred  prejudices  ;  for  a  man 


28  THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

can  only  truly  be  said  to  be  without  prejudices  when 
he  has  no  decided  opinions  on  any  subject  whatever. 
Lastly,  I  had  contracted  a  habit  of  liberal  curiosity 
which  impelled  me  to  run  about  and  see  all  the  fine 
sights  in  the  world.  I  would  at  any  time  travel  a 
hundred  miles  to  visit  an  old  castle,  or  ogle  a  Canova 
or  a  Raphael.  In  short,  I  was  a  gentleman  to  all  in- 
tents and  purposes,  for  I  could  neither  read,  work, 
walk,  ride,  sit  still,  nor  devote  myself  to  any  one  object, 
for  an  hour  at  a  time. 

This  was  my  motive  for  coming  hither.  I  came  in 
search  of  sensation  :  whether  derived  from  eating  lob- 
sters, or  seeing  opera-dancers,  is  all  one  to  me.  But, 
alas !,  what  is  there  here  to  see,  always  excepting  the 
dinners  and  suppers,  worth  the  trouble  of  opening 
one  of  one's  eyes,  by  a  man  who  has  seen  the  Opera 
Fran9ais,  the  Palais  Royal,  the  inside  of  a  French 
cook-shop,  the  Pantheon,  St.  Peter's,  the  carnival,  the 
coronation,  and  the  punch  of  all  puppet-shows,  a  legit- 
imate king;  besides  rowing  in  a  Venitian  gondola,  and 
crossing  Mont  St.  Bernard  on  a  donkey  I  Last  of  all, 
friend  Frank,  I  brought  home  with  me  the  genuine 
patent  of  modern  gentility  —  a  dyspepsy,  which  I 
caught  at  a  famous  restaurateur's,  and  helped  to  ma- 
ture at  the  Palais  Royal,  where  they  sit  up  at  nights, 
eat  late  suppers,  and  lie  abed  till  five  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon. 

But  this  dyspepsy,  though  excessively  high-bred  at 
that  time,  is  now  becoming  vulgar.  Since  my  arrival 
here,  I  have  actually  heard  brokers  and  lottery-office- 
keepers  complain  of  it.  Besides,  it  spoils  the  pleasure 
of  eating ;  and  a  man  must  have  made  the  grand  tour 
to  little  purpose,  not  to  know  that  eating  is  one  of  the 


THE   NEW   MIRROR    FOR   TRAVELLERS.  29 

chief  ends  of  man.  I  vegetated  about  for  a  year  or 
two,  sans  employment,  sans  amusement,  sans  every 
thing  —  except  dyspepsia.  The  doctor  advised  hard 
work  and  abstinence,  remedies  ten  times  worse  than 
the  disease  —  to  a  man  who  has  made  the  grand  tour. 
"  Get  a  wife,  and  go  and  live  on  a  farm  in  the  upper 
country."  "  Marry,  and  live  in  the  country !  —  not  if  it 
would  give  me  the  digestion  of  an  ostrich,"  exclaimed 
Signior  Stephen  GrifFen.  By  the  way,  this  same 
Christian  name  of  mine  is  a  bore.  Griffen  will  do  — 
it  smacks  of  heraldry ;  but  Stephen  puts  one  in  mind 
of  that  degenerate  potentate  whose  breeches  cost  him 
only  half  a  crown,  a  circumstance  in  itself  sufficient 
to  stamp  him  with  ignominy  unutterable.  Be  this  as 
it  may,  it  pleased  my  doughty  god-father,  (whom  I 
shall  never  forgive  for  not  giving  me  a  better  name), 
to  accede  to  the  wishes  of  that  exceedingly  sensible 
rice-fed  damsel,  his  pet  niece,  and  my  predestined  rib, 
alias  better  half,  to  visit  the  springs  at  Ballston  and 
Saratoga  —  the  great  canal  —  the  great  falls  —  and 
other  great  lions  of  these  parts.  So  here  we  are  es- 
tablished for  ten  days  or  a  fortnight,  for  the  purpose 
of  taking  a  preparatory  course  of  lobsters,  singers, 
dancers,  dust,  and  ashes.  Broadway  is  a  perfect 
cloud  of  dust.  It  has  been  M'Adamized  —  for  which 
may  dust  confound  all  concerned. 

Thine,  S.  G. 

The  approach  to  New  York,  either  through  the 
Narrows  or  the  Kills,  as  they  are  called,  is  conspicu- 
ously beautiful,  and  worthy  of  the  excellent  fare  to 
which  the  fortunate  traveller  who  visits  the  city  at 
a  proper  season  is  destined.     And  here  we  must  cau- 


30  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

tion  our  readers  to  beware  of  all  those  unlucky  months 
that  are  without  the  fortunate  letter,  R,  which  may  be 
called  the  tutelary  genius  of  oysters,  inasmuch  as  no 
oyster  can  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  being  eaten  in  New 
York  during  any  of  the  barren  months,  which  are 
without  this  delightful  consonant.  It  is  against  the 
law,  experience  having  demonstrated  the  ill  effects  of 
indulging  in  these  delicious  dainties  in  hot  weather 

—  witness  the  sudden  deaths  of  divers  common-coun- 
cilmen  after  supper.  For  this  reason  most  of  the 
fashionable  people  go  out  of  town  during  those  in- 
famous months  that  begin  with  May  and  end  with 
August,  not  one  of  which  contains  the  fortunate  R, 
there  being  nothing  left  worth  staying  for.  This 
period  may  justly  be  called  the  season  of  Lent.  No 
canvas-backs  —  no  venison — no  grouse —  no  lobsters 

—  no  oysters;  —  nothing  but  lamb,  and  chicken,  and 
green  peas  !  No  wonder  all  people  of  taste  go  out  of 
town  ;  for,  as  a  famous  prize-poet  writes,. — 

"  Without  all  these,  the  town's  a  very  curse, 
Broadway  a  bore,  the  Battery  still  worse ; 
Wall  Street  the  very  focus  of  all  evil, 
Cook-shops  a  hell,  and  every  cook  the  devil."  * 

New  York  is  not  only  beautiful  in  its  approach, 
beautiful  in  itself,  and  consummate  in  eating:  its 
liquors  are  inimitable  —  divine.  Who  has  not  tasted 
the  "  Bingham  "  —  the  "  Marston  "  —  the  "  Nabob  "  — 
and  the  "Billy  Ludlow!"  Above  all,  who  has  not 
tasted  of  the  unparalleled  "  Resurrection  "  wine  —  so 
called  from  its  having  once  actually  brought  a  man  to 

*  See  a  prize-poem  on  the  opening  of  the  Goose  and  Gridiron,  for  which 
the  fortunate  author  received  a  collation  and  twelve  oyster  suppers,  besides 
having  his  mouth  stufi'ed  full  of  sugar-candy,  after  the  manner  of  the  Persian 
poets. 


THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  31 

life,  after  he  was  stone-dead  under  the  table.  Nobody 
that  ever  had  any  of  this  wine  ever  died  until  he  had 
no  more  of  it  left;  and  a  famous  physician  once 
affirmed  in  our  presence,  that  every  drop  was  as  good 
as  a  drop  of  buoyant,  frisky,  youthful  blood,  added  to 
the  body  corporate.  No  wonder  then  that  eating  and 
drinking  is  the  great  business  of  life  in  New  York, 
among  people  that  can  or  cannot  afford  these  ex- 
quisite dainties,  and  that  they  talk  of  nothing  else 
at  dinner;  for,  as  the  same  illustrious  prize-poet 
has  it, — 

"  Five  senses  were,  by  ever-bounteous  heaven, 
To  the  thrice-hicky  son  of  Adam  given. 
Seeing,  that  he  might  drink  e'en  Avith  his  eyes, 
And  catch  the  promise  that  taste  ratities ; 
Hearing,  that  he  might  hst  the  jingling  glass, 
That,  Avere  he  blind,  might  unsuspected  pass; 
Smelling,  that,  when  the  rest,  mayhap,  are  gone. 
Will  for  their  traitorous  absence  half-atone; 
And  feeling,  which,  when  the  dim,  shadowy  sight, 
No  longer  guides  the  pious  pilgrim  right, 
Gropes  its  slow  way  unerring  to  the  shop, 
Where  Dolly  tosses  up  her  mutton-chop, 
And  sacred  steams  of  roasted  oysters  rise, 
Like  incense,  to  the  lean  and  hungry  skies." 

Of  the  manner  in  which  the  various  manoeuvres  of 
gastronomy  are  got  through  with  in  New  York,  at 
dinners  and  evening  parties,  the  following,  which  we 
have  politely  been  permitted  to  copy  from  the  unpub- 
lished letters  we  spoke  of,  will  sufHciently  apprise  the 
courteous  reader.  It  is  high  ton  throughout,  we  as- 
sure him,  though  there  are  at  present  some  symptom- 
atic indications  of  a  change  for  the  better — (better 
at  least  according  to  the  notions  of  Colonel  Culpeper) 
—  in  the  evening  parties,  from  whence  it  is,  we  under- 
stand, contemplated  to  banish  late  hours,  oysters,  and 


32  THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

champagne.  Against  this  last  innovation  we  protest, 
in  the  name  of  posterity  and  the  immortal  gods. 
Banish  beauty  —  banish  grace  —  banish  music,  danc- 
ing, flirtation,  ogling,  and  making  love  —  but  spare, 
O  spare  us  the  oysters  and  champagne !  What  will 
become  of  the  brisk  gallantry  of  the  beaux,  the  ele- 
gant vivacity  of  the  belles,  the  pleasures  of  anticipa- 
tion, and  the  ineffable  delights  of  fruition,  if  you 
banish  oysters  and  champagne  ? 

The  fashionable  reader  will  be  tempted  to  smile  at 
the  colonel's  antediluvian  notions  of  style  and  good- 
breeding  ;  but  what  can  you  expect  from  a  man  born 
and  brought  up  among  the  high  hills  of  Santee  ? 
His  strictures  on  waltzing  are  especially  laughable. 
What  do  women  —  we  mean  fashionable  women  ^ 
dress  and  undress,  wear  hisJioj^s,  and  wind  themselves 
into  the  elegantly-lascivious  motions  of  the  waltz, 
for?  —  but  to  excite  sensation  in  the  gentlemen,  who 
ought  to  be  eternally  grateful  for  the  pains  they 
take. 


COLONEL  CULPEPER  TO  MAJOR  BRANDE. 

New  York,  May  6,  1827. 

Dear  Major,  —  I  have  been  so  occupied  of  late  in 
seeing  sights,  eating  huge  dinners,  and  going  to  eve- 
ning parties  to  matronize  Lucia,  that  I  had  no  time 
to  write  to  you.  The  people  here  are  very  hospitable, 
though  not  exactly  after  the  manner  of  the  high  hills 
of  Santee.  They  give  you  a  great  dinner  or  evening 
party,  and  then,  as  the  sage  Master  Stephen  Griffen  is 
pleased  to  observe,  "let  you  run."  These  dinners 
seem  to  be  in  the  nature  of  a  spasmodic  effort,  which 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  33 

exhausts  the  purse  or  the  hospitality  of  the  enter- 
tainer, and  is  followed  by  a  collapse  of  retrenchment. 

You  recollect ,  who  staid  at  my  house  during  a 

fit  of  illness,  for  six  weeks,  the  year  before  last.  He 
has  a  fine  house,  the  inside  of  which  looks  like  an  up- 
holsterer's shop,  and  lives  in  style.  He  gave  me  an 
invitation  to  dinner,  at  a  fortnight's  notice.  I  ate  out 
of  a  set  of  china,  which,  my  lady  assured  me,  cost 
seven  hundred  dollars,  and  drank  out  of  glasses  that 
cost  a  guinea  a  piece.  In  short,  there  was  nothing  on 
the  table  of  which  I  did  not  learn  the  value,  most 
especially  the  wine,  some  of  which,  mine  entertainer 
gave  the  company  his  word  of  honour,  stood  him  in 
eight  dollars  a  bottle,  besides  the  interest,  and  was 
half  a  century  old.  I  observed,  very  gravely,  that  it 
bore  its  age  so  remarkably  well  that  I  really  took  it  to 
be  in  the  full  vigour  of  youth.  Upon  which  all  the 
company  set  me  down  as  a  bore. 

In  place  of  the  pleasant  chit-chat  and  honest  jollity 
of  better  times,  there  was  nothing  talked  of  but  the 
quality  of  the  gentlemen's  wines,  which,  I  observed, 
were  estimated  entirely  by  their  age  and  prices.  One 
boasted  of  his  Bingham  ;  another,  of  his  Marston ;  a 
third,  of  his  Nabob  ;  and  a  fourth,  of  his  Billy  Ludlow. 
All  this  was  Greek  to  me,  who  was  obliged  to  sit 
stupidly  silent,  having  neither  Bingham,  nor  Marston, 
nor  Nabob,  nor  Billy  Ludlow ;  nor  indeed  any  other 
wine  of  name  or  pedigree :  for,  the  fact  is,  as  you 
very  well  know,  my  wine  goes  so  fast,  it  has  no  timiC 
to  grow  old. 

But  there  was  one  pursy,  pompous  little  man  at 
table,  a  foreigner  I  think,  who  (my  lady  whispered 
me)  was  worth  a  million  and  a  half  of  dollars,  and 


84        THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

who  beat  the  others  all  hollow.  He  actually  had  in  his 
garret  a  dozen  of  wine  seventy  years  old,  last  grass, 
that  had  been  in  his  family  fifty  years  —  which,  by 
the  way,  as  a  sly  neighbour  on  my  right  assured  me, 
was  farther  back  than  he  could  carry  his  own  pedigree. 
This  seemed  to  raise  him  high  above  all  competition, 
and  gave  great  effect  to  several  of  the  very  worst 
jokes  I  ever  heard.  It  occurred  to  me,  however,  that 
his  friends  had  been  little  the  better  for  the  wine  thus 
hoarded  to  brag  about.  For  my  part,  I  never  yet  met 
a  real  honest,  liberal,  hospitable  fellow  that  had  much 
old  wine.  Occasionally  the  conversation  varied  into 
discussions  as  to  who  was  the  best  judge  of  wine, 
and  there  was  a  serious  contest  about  a  bottle  of 
Bingham  and  a  bottle  of  Marston,  which  I  was  afraid 
would  end  in  a  duel.  All,  however,  bowed  to  the 
supremacy  of  one  particular  old  gentleman,  who  made 
a  bet  that  he  would  shut  his  eyes,  hold  his  nose,  and 
distinguish  between  six  different  kinds  of  Madeira.  I 
did  not  think  much  of  this,  as  a  man  don't  drink  wine 
either  with  his  eyes  or  nose ;  but  politely  expressed 
my  wonder,  and  smacked  my  lips,  and  cried,  "  Ah  I " 
in  unison  with  this  Winkelmann  of  wine-bibbers,  like 
a  veritable  connoisseur. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  these  dinners  are  gen- 
teel and  splendid,  because  every  body  here  says  so. 
But,  between  ourselves,  major,  I  was  wearied  in  spite 
of  Bingham  and  Marston,  and  the  Nabob.  There 
wanted  the  zest,  the  ease,  the  loose  gown  and  slippers, 
the  elbow-room  for  the  buoyant,  frisky  spirits  to  curvet 
and  gambol  in  a  little;  without  which  your  Bingham 
and  canvas-backs  are  naught.  In  the  midst  of  all  this 
display,  I  sighed  for  bacon  and   greens  and  merry 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  35 

faces.*  As  I  am  a  Christian  gentleman,  there  was 
not  the  tithe  of  a  good  thing  said  at  the  table ;  and, 
to  my  mind,  eating  and  drinking  good  things  is  noth- 
ing without  a  little  accompanying  wit  and  humour  as 
sauce.  The  little  pursy,  important  man  of  a  million, 
it  is  true,  succeeded  several  times  in  raising  a  laugh, 
by  the  weight  of  his  purse  rather  than  the  point  of 
his  joke.  The  dinner  lasted  six  hours,  at  the  end 
of  which  the  company  was  more  silent  than  at  the 
beginning,  a  sure  sign  of  something  being  wanting. 
For  my  part,  I  may  truly  affirm,  I  never  was  at  a  more 
splendid  dinner,  or  one  more  mortally  dull.  However, 
my  friend  paid  his  debt  of  hospitality  by  it,  for  I  have 
not  seen  the  inside  of  his  house  since.  He  apologizes 
for  not  paying  me  any  more  attention,  by  saying  his 
house  is  all  topsy-turvy  with  new  papering  and  paint- 
ing, but  assures  me  that  by  the  time  we  return  in 
autumn  madam  will  be  in  a  condition  to  give  us 
a  little  party.  I  believe  he  holds  me  cheap,  because  I 
have  no  dear  wine  that  stands  me  in  eight  dollars 
a  bottle. 

'Tis  the  fashion  of  the  times,  so  let  it  pass.  But, 
fasliion  or  not,,  nothing  in  the  range  of  common-sense 
can  rescue  this  habit  of  cumbrous  display  and  clumsy 
ostentation  from  the  reproach  of  bad  taste  and  vulgar- 
ity. This  loading  of  the  table  with  costly  finery,  and 
challenging  our  admiration  by  giving  us  the  price  of 
each  article;  this  boasting  of  the  age,  the  goodness, 
and,  above  all,  the  cost,  of  the  wine,  is  little  better 
than  telling  the  guests,  they  are  neither  judges  of 
what  is  valuable  in  furniture,  nor  commendable  in 

*  It  is  plain  the  colonel  knows  nothing  of  Tournure.  Bacon  and  greens 
—  stuff! 


36  THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

wines.  Why  not  let  them  find  these  things  out,  them- 
selves; or  remain  in  most  happy  ignorance  of  the 
price  of  a  set  of  china,  and  the  age  of  a  bottle  of 
wine.  It  is  for  the  tradesman  to  brag  of  his  wares, 
and  the  wine-merchant  of  his  wines,  because  they 
wish  to  sell  them  ;  but  the  giver  of  good  things  should 
never  overwhelm  the  receiver  with  the  weight  of  grat- 
itude, by  telling  him  their  value. 

From  the  dinner-party,  which  broke  up  at  nine, 
I  accompanied  the  young  people  to  a  tea-party,  being 
desirous  of  shakinof  off  the  heaviness  of  that  modern 

o 

merry-making.  We  arrived  about  a  quarter  before 
ten,  and  found  the  servant  just  lighting  the  lamps. 
There  was  not  another  soul  in  the  room.  He  assured 
me  the  lady  would  be  down  to  receive  us  in  half  an 
hour,  being  then  under  the  hands  of  Monsieur  Manuel, 
the  hair-dresser,  who  was  engaged  till  nine  o'clock 
with  other  ladies.  You  must  know  this  Manuel  is 
the  fashionable  hair-dresser  of  the  city,  and  it  is  not 
uncommon  for  ladies  to  get  their  heads  dressed  the 
day  before  they  are  wanted,  and  to  sit  up  all  night  to 
preserve  them  in  their  proper  buckram  rigidity.  Mon- 
sieur Manuel,  as  I  hear,  has  two  dollars  per  head,  be- 
sides a  dollar  for  coach-hire,  it  being  utterly  impossi- 
ble for  monsieur  to  walk.     His  time  is  too  precious. 

We  had  plenty  of  leisure  to  admire  the  rooms  and 
decorations,  for  Monsieur  Manuel  was  in  no  hurry. 
I  took  a  nap  on  the  sofa,  under  a  superb  lustre  which 
shed  a  quantity  of  its  honours  upon  my  best  merino 
coat,  sprinkling  it  handsomely  with  spermaceti. 
About  half  past  ten,  the  lady  entered  in  all  the  col- 
ours of  the  rainbow  and  all  the  extravagance  of 
vulgar  finery.     I  took  particular  notice  of  her  head, 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  37 

which,  beyond  doubt,  was  the  masterpiece  of  Mon- 
sieur Manuel.  It  was  divested  of  all  its  natural  fea- 
tures, which  I  suppose  is  the  perfection  of  art.  There 
was  nothing  about  it  which  looked  like  hair,  except 
it  might  be  petrified  hair.  All  the  graceful  waving 
lightness  of  this  most  beautiful  gift  of  woman  was 
lost  in  curls,  stiff  and  ungraceful  as  deformity  could 
make  them,  and  hair  plastered  to  the  head  till  it  glis- 
tened like  an  overheated  "  gentleman  of  colour."  She 
made  something  like  an  apology  for  not  being  ready 
to  receive  us,  which  turned,  however,  pretty  much  on 
not  expecting  any  company  at  such  an  early  hour. 
Between  ten  and  eleven,  the  company  began  to  drop 
in  ;  but  the  real  fashionables  did  not  arrive  till  about 
half  past  eleven,  by  which  time  the  room  was  pretty 
well  filled.  It  was  what  they  call  a  conversation 
party,  one  at  which  neither  cards  nor  dancing  made 
up  any  part  of  the  amusement ;  of  course  therefore 
I  expected  to  enjoy  some  agreeable  chit-chat.  Old 
bachelor  as  I  am,  and  for  ladies'  love  unfit,  still  I  de- 
light in  the  smiles  of  beauty;  and  the  music  of  a  sweet 
voice  speaking  intelligence  is  to  me  sweeter  than  the 
harmony  of  the  spheres,  or  the  Italian  opera. 

Accordingly,  I  made  interest  for  introductions  to 
two  or  three  of  the  most  promising  faces,  and  at- 
tempted a  little  small-talk.  The  first  of  these  ladies 
commenced  by  asking  me  in  a  voice  that  almost  made 
me  jump  out  of  my  seat,  if  I  had  been  at  Mrs.  Some- 
body's party,  last  week  ?  To  the  which  I  replied  in 
the  negative.  After  a  moment's  pause,  she  asked  me 
if  I  was  going  to  Mrs.  Somebody's  party,  the  next 
evening?  To  the  which,  in  like  manner,  I  replied  in 
the  negative.     Another  pause,  and  another  question, 


38  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

whether  I  was  acquainted  with  another  Mrs.  Some- 
body, who  was  going  to  give  a  party  ?  To  this  I  was 
obliged  to  give  another  negation;  when  the  young 
lady,  espying  a  vacant  seat  in  a  corner  on  the  opposite 
side,  took  flight  without  ceremony,  and,  by  a  puss-in- 
the-corner  movement,  seated  herself  beside  another 
young  lady,  with  whom  she  entered  into  conversation 
with  a  most  interesting  volubility. 

Though  somewhat  discouraged,  I  tried  my  fortune 
a  second  time,  with  a  pale,  delicate,  and  interesting- 
looking  little  girl,  who  I  had  fancied  to  myself  was  of 
ethereal  race  and  lived  upon  air,  she  looked  so  light 
and  graceful.  By  way  of  entering-wedge,  I  asked  her 
the  name  of  a  lady,  who,  by  the  bye,  had  nothing 
very  particular  about  her,  except  her  dress,  which  was 
extravagantly  fine.  My  imaginary  sylph  began  to  ex- 
patiate upon  its  beauty  and  taste  in  a  most  eloquent 
manner,  and  concluded  by  saying :  "  But  it's  a  pity 
she  wears  it  so  often."  Why  so?  "  O,  why  —  be- 
cause." Is  it  the  worse  for  wear  ?  "  O  dear,  no  ;  but 
then  one  sees  it  so  often."  But,  if  'tis  handsome,  the 
oftener  the  better^  I  should  think ;  beauty  cannot  be 
too  often  contemplated,  said  I,  looking  in  her  face 
rather  significantly.  What  effect  this  might  have 
had  upon  her  I  can't  say,  for,  just  then,  I  observed  a 
mysterious  agitation  among  the  company,  which  was 
immediately  followed  by  the  appearance  of  a  number 
of  little  tables,  wheeled  into  the  room  by  servants  in 
great  force,  and  covered  with  splendid  services  of 
china,  filled  with  pickled  oysters,  oyster  soup,  celery, 
dressed  lobsters,  ducks,  turkeys,  pastry,  confectionery, 
and  the  Lord  knows  what  besides.  My  little  ethereal 
upon  this  started  up,  seated  herself  at  a  little  round 


I 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.         .         39 

marble  table  which  was  placed  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  and  commenced  her  supper,  by  the  aid  of  two 
obsequious  swains  who  w^aited  on  her  with  the  spoils 
of  the  grand  table.  I  never  could  bear  to  see  a  young 
woman  eat  when  I  was  a  young  man,  and  I  have 
never  seen  above  half  a  dozen  ladies  who  knew  how 
to  manage  the  work  with  pure  sentimental  indifference. 
It  is  at  the  best  but  a  vulgar,  earthly,  matter-of-fact 
business,  and  brings  all  people  on  a  level,  belles  and 
beaux,  refined  and  not  refined.  It  is,  in  truth,  a  sheer 
animal  gratification,  and  a  young  lady  should  never, 
if  possible,  let  her  lover  see  her  eat,  until  after  mar- 
riage. 

Now,  major,  let  me  premise,  that  I  am  not  going  to 
romance  one  tittle  w^hen  I  tell  you  I  w^as  astounded  at 
the  trencher-feats  of  my  little  sylph.  It  was  not  in 
the  spirit  of  ill-natured  espionage,  I  assure  you,  that  I 
happened  to  look  at  her  as  she  took  her  seat  at  the 
little  round  table  ;  but,  having  once  looked,  I  was 
fascinated  to  the  spot.  Here  follows  a  bill  of  fare 
which  she  discussed,  and  I  am  willing  to  swear  to 
every  item. 

Imprimis  —  Pickled  oysters. 

Item  —  Oyster  soup. 

Item  —  Dressed  lobster  and  celery. 

Item  —  Two  jellies. 

Item —  Macaroons. 

Item  —  Kisses. 

Item  —  Whip-syllabub. 

Item  —  Blanc-mange. 

Item  —  Ice-creams. 

Item —  Floating-island. 


40  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

Item  —  Alamode  beef. 

Item  —  Cold  turkey. 

Item  —  A  partridge  wing. 

Item  —  Roast  duck  and  onions. 

Item —  Three  glasses  of  brown  stout,  &c.  &c. 

Do  you  remember  the  fairy-tale,  where  a  man  eats 
as  much  bread  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  as  served  a 
whole  city  ?  I  never  believed  a  word  of  it  till  now. 
But  all  this  is  vulgar,  you  will  say.  Even  so;  but 
the  vulgarity  consists  in  eating  so  horritically,  not  in 
noticing  it.  The  thing  is  essentially  ill-bred,  and, 
should  this  practice  continue  to  gain  ground,  there  is 
not  the  least  doubt  that  the  number  of  old  bachelors 
and  maidens  will  continue  to  increase  and  multiply, 
in  a  manner  quite  contrary  to  Scripture.  To  con- 
clude this  heart-rending  subject,  I  venture  to  afhrm 
that  assemblages  of  this  kind  ought  to  be  called  eat- 
ing, instead  of  tea-drinking,  or  conversation,  parties. 
Their  relative  excellence  and  attraction  is  always  esti- 
mated, among  the  really  fashionable,  refined  people, 
by  the  quality  and  quantity  of  the  eatables  and  drink- 
ables. One  great  requisite  is  plenty  of  oysters ;  but 
the  sine  qua  non  is  oceans  of  champagne.  Master 
Stephen,  who  is  high  authority  in  a  case  of  this  sort, 
pronounced  this  party  quite  unexceptionable,  for  there 
was  little  conversation,  a  great  deal  of  eating,  and  the 
champagne  so  plenty,  that  nine  first-rate  dandies  (in- 
cluding himself)  got  so  merry  that  they  fell  fast  asleep 
on  the  lounges  of  the  supper-room  up  stairs.  I  can 
answer  for  king  Stephen,  who  was  discovered  in  this 
situation  at  three  in  the  morning  when  the  fashiona- 
bles began  to  think  of  going  home. 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  41 

For  my  part,  major,  I  honestly  confess,  I  was  again 
wearied,  even  unto  yawning  desperately  in  the  very 
teeth  of  beauty.  But  I  don't  lay  it  altogether  to  the 
charge  of  the  party,  being  somewhat  inclined  to  sus- 
pect that  the  jokes  of  the  little  man  of  a  million,  and 
the  Bingham  wine,  were  partly  at  the  bottom  of  the 
business.  I  wonder  how  it  came  into  the  heads  of 
people  of  a  moderate  common-sense,  that  old  wine 
could  ever  make  people  feel  young,  and,  consequently, 
merry.  There  is  gout,  past,  present  and  future  —  gout 
personal,  real,  and  hereditary  —  lurking  at  the  bottom 
of  old  wine ;  and  nothing  can  possibly  prevent  this 
universal  consequence  of  drinking  it,  but  a  natural 
and  incurable  vulgarity  of  constitution,  which  cannot 
assimilate  itself  to  a  disease  of  such  genteel  origin. 

I  have  since  been  at  several  of  these  first-rate  fash- 
ionable conversaziones,  where  there  was  almost  the 
same  company,  the  same  eatables  and  drinkables,  and 
the  same  lack  of  pleasing  and  vivacious  chat.  I 
sidled  up  to  several  little  groups,  whose  loud  laugh 
and  promising  gestures  induced  me  to  believe  there 
was  something  pleasant  going  on.  But  I  assure  you 
nothing  could  equal  the  vapid  insignificance  of  their 
talk.  There  was  nothing  in  it,  but,  "  La,  were  you  at 
the  ball  last  night  ?  "  —  and  then  an  obstreperous  roar 
of  ill-bred,  noisy  laughter.  There  is  no  harm  in  peo- 
ple talking  in  this  way,  but  it  is  a  cruel  deceit  upon 
tlie  unwary,  to  allure  a  man  into  listening.  In  mak- 
ing my  observations,  it  struck  me  that  many  of  the 
young  ladies  looked  sleepy,  and  the  elderly  ones  did 
certainly  yawn  most  unmercifully.  There  was,  at  one 
of  these  polite  stuffings,  an  elderly  lady,  between 
whose  jaws  and  mine  a  desperate  sympathy  grew  up 


42  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

and  flourished.  Our  mouths,  if  not  our  eye?,  may 
truly  be  said  to  have  met  in  this  accord  of  inanity, 
and  twenty  times  in  the  course  of  the  evening  did  we 
involuntarily  exchange  these  tokens  of  mutual  good- 
understanding.  The  next  party  we  happened  to  meet 
at,  I  determined  to  practise  the  most  resolute  self- 
denial.  But  it  would  not  do ;  there  was  an  awful 
and  irresistible  attraction  about  the  maelstrom  of  her 
mouth,  that  drew  me  toward  its  vortex,  and  we  have 
continued  to  yawn  at  each  other  whenever  we  have 
met  since.  Wherever  I  turn  my  eyes,  the  cavern  opes 
before  me,  and  my  old  habit  of  yawning  has  become 
ten  times  more  despotic  than  ever. 

But,  seriously  speaking,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at 
that  the  indefatigable  votaries  of  fashion  should  look 
sleepy  at  these  parties.  Some  of  them  have  sat  up 
all  the  night  before,  perhaps,  in  order  not  to  discom- 
pose the  awful  curls  of  Monsieur  Manuel.  Others, 
(and,  I  am  told,  the  major  part  of  them),  have  been  at 
parties  five  nights  in  the  week,  for  two  or  three  months 
past.  You  will  recollect  that,  owing  to  the  absurd 
and  ridiculous  aping  of  foreign  whims  and  fashions, 
these  evening  parties  do  not  commence  till  the  eve- 
ning is  past,  nor  end  till  the  morning  is  come.  Hence 
it  is  impossible  to  go  to  one  of  them  without  losing 
a  whole  night's  rest,  which  is  to  be  made  up  by  lying 
in  bed  the  greater  part  of  the  next  day.  Such  a 
course,  for  a  whole  season,  must  prostrate  the  physi- 
cal and  moral  strength,  and  convert  a  young  woman 
into  a  mere  machine,  to  be  wound  up  for  a  few  hours 
by  the  artificial  excitements  of  the  splendours  of 
wealth,  the  vain  gratification  of  temporary  admiration, 
or  the  more  substantial  stimulus  of  the  bill  of  fare  of 


THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  43 

the  sylph  ethereal  aforesaid.  It  is  no  wonder  that 
their  persons  are  jaded,  their  eyes  sunk,  their  chests 
flattened,  their  sprightliness  repressed  by  midnight 
revels,  and  that  they  supply  the  absence  of  all  these 
by  artificial  allurements  of  dress,  and  artificial  pulmo- 
nic vivacity.  You  will  wonder  to  hear  a  chivalrous 
old  bachelor  rail  at  this  ill-natured  rate.  But,  the 
truth  is,  I  admire  the  last  best  work  so  fervently,  that 
I  can't  endure  to  see  it  spoiled  and  sophisticated  by  a 
preposterous  imitation  of  what  is  called  the  fashion ; 
and  so  love  the  native  charms  of  our  native  beauties, 
that  it  grieves  my  heart  and  rouses  my  ire  to  see  them 
thus  blighted  and  destroyed,  in  the  midnight  chase  of 
a  phantom  miscalled  pleasure. 

Not  three  years  ago,  I  am  told,  it  was  the  custom 
to  go  to  a  party  at  eight,  and  come  away  at  twelve,  or 
sooner.  By  this  sober  and  rational  arrangement,  a 
young  lady  might  indulge  in  the  very  excess  of  fash- 
ionable dissipation,  without  absolutely  withering  the 
roses  of  her  cheeks,  and  dying  at  thirty  of  premature 
old  age.  But,  in  an  evil  hour,  some  puppy,  who,  like 
my  Master  Stephen,  had  seen  the  world,  or  some  silly 
woman  that  had  been  three  months  abroad,  came 
home,  and  turned  up  the  nose  at  these  early  vulgari- 
ties—  telling  how  the  fashionable  parties  began  at 
midnight  and  ended  at  sunrise,  and  how  the  foreigners 
all  laughed  at  the  vulgar  hours  of  the  vulgar  parties 
of  the  vulgar  republicans.  This  was  enough.  Mis- 
tress Somebody,  the  wife  of  Mr.  Such-a-one,  who  had 
a  fine  house  in  a  certain  street,  "  with  folding  doors 
and  marble  mantel-pieces,"  and  all  that  sort  of  thing, 
set  the  fashion,  and  now  the  gentility  of  a  party  is  es- 
timated in  no  small  degree  by  the  hour.     If  you  want 


44  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

to  be  tolerably  genteel,  you  must  not  go  till  half  past 
nine  —  if  very  genteel,  at  ten  —  if  exceedingly  genteel, 
at  eleven  ;  —  but  if  you  want  to  be  superlatively  gen- 
teel, you  must  not  make  your  appearance  till  twelve. 

The  crying  absurdity  of  this  disposition,  in  a 
society  where  almost  every  person  at  these  parties  has 
business  or  duties  of  some  kind  to  attend  to  by  nine 
o'clock  the  next  day,  must  be  apparent.  The  whole 
thing  is  at  war  with  the  state  of  society  here,  and  in- 
compatible with  the  system  of  domestic  arrangements 
and  out-door  business.  It  is  a  pitiful  aping  of  people 
abroad,  whose  sole  pursuit  is  pleasure,  and  who  can 
turn* day  into  night,  and  night  into  day,  without  pay- 
ing any  other  penalty  than  the  loss  of  health  and  the 
abandonment  of  all  pretensions  to  usefulness.  If  our 
travelled  gentry  cannot  bring  home  something  more 
valuable  than  these  mischievous  absurdities,  they  had 
better  stay  at  home.  They  remind  me  of  our  good 
friend  Sloper,  who  spent  seven  years,  travelling  in  the 
east,  and  brought  nothing  home  with  him  but  an 
excellent  mode  of  spoiling  rice  and  chickens,  by  cook- 
ing them  after  the  Arabian  fashion. 

Among  the  most  disgusting  of  these  importations 
is  the  fashion  of  waltzing,  which  is  becoming  common 
here  of  late.  It  was  introduced,  as  I  understand,  by 
a  party  of  would-be  fashionables,  that  saw  it  practised 
at  the  operas  with  such  enchanting  languor,  grace, 
and  lasciviousness,  that  they  fell  in  love  with  it,  and 
determined  to  bless  their  country  by  transplanting  the 
precious  exotic.  I  would  not  be  understood  as  cen- 
suring those  nations  among  whom  the  waltz  is,  as  it 
were,  indigenous  —  a  national  dance.  Habit,  exam- 
ple, and  practice  from  their  earliest  youth,  accustom 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  45 

the  women  of  these  countries  to  the  exhibition,  and 
excuse  it.  But  for  an  American  woman,  with  all  her 
habits  and  opinions  already  formed,  accustomed  to 
certain  restraints,  and  reared  in  certain  notions  of 
propriety,  to  rush  at  once  into  a  waltz,  and  to  brave 
the  just  sentiment  of  the  delicate  of  her  own  and  the 
other  sex  with  whom  she  has  been  brought  up  and 
continues  to  associate,  is  little  creditable  to  her  good 
sense,  her  delicacy,  or  her  morals.  Every  woman 
does,  or  ought  to,  know,  that  she  cannot  exhibit  her- 
self in  the  whirling  and  voluptuous  windings  of  a 
waltz,  without  calling  up  in  the  minds  of  men  feel- 
ings and  associations  unworthy  the  dignity  and  purity 
of  a  delicate  female.  The  free  motions  —  the  up- 
turned eyes  —  the  die-away  languors  —  the  dizzy  cir- 
clings  —  the  twining  arms  —  the  projecting  front  —  all 
combine  to  waken  in  the  bosom  of  the  spectator  an- 
alogies, associations,  and  passions,  which  no  woman, 
who  values  the  respect  of  the  world,  ought  ever  will- 
fully to  challenge  or  excite. 

I  must  not  forget  one  thing  that  amused  me,  amid 
all  this  aping  and  ostentation.  I  was  at  first  struck 
with  the  profusion  of  servants,  lamps,  china,  and  sil- 
ver forks  at  these  parties ;  and  could  not  help  admir- 
ing the  magnificence  of  the  entertainer,  as  well  as  his 
wealth.  But  by  degrees  it  began  to  strike  me,  that  I 
had  seen  these  things  before ;  and  at  last  I  fairly  de- 
tected a  splendid  tureen,  together  with  divers  elegant 
chandeliers  and  lamps,  which  I  had  actually  admired 
the  night  before  at  a  party  in  another  part  of  the 
town.  As  to  my  old  friend  Simon,  and  his  squires 
of  the  body,  he  and  I  are  hand  and  glove.  I  see  him 
and  his  people,  and  the  tureen,  and  the  china,  and  the 


46  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

lamps,  everywhere.  They  are  all  hired,  in  imitation 
of  the  fashionable  people  abroad.  They  undertake 
for  every  thing  here,  from  furnishing  a  party  to  bury- 
ing a  Christian.  I  can't  help  thinking  it  is  a  paltry 
attempt  at  style.  But  adieu,  for  the  present.  I  am 
tired  —  are  not  you  ? 

If  ever  the  pure  and  perfect  system  of  equality  was 
completely  exemplified  upon  earth,  it  will  be  found  in 
New  York,  where  it  is  the  fashion  to  dress  without 
any  regard  to  time,  purse,  station.  There  is  no  place 
where  the  absurd,  antiquated  maxim,  about  cutting 
your  coat  according  to  your  cloth,  is  so  properly  and 
consummately  cut^  as  here,  where  a  full  dress  is  in- 
dispensable on  all  occasions,  particularly  in  walking 
Broadway  or  going  to  church.  Whoever  wishes  to 
see  beauty  in  all  its  glory  must  walk  Broadway  of  a 
morning,  or  visit  a  fashionable  church  —  for  there  is 
a  fashion  in  churches  —  on  a  fine  Sunday.  On  these 
occasions  it  is  delightfully  refreshing  to  see  a  fashion- 
able, looking  like  a  ship  on  a  gala-day,  dressed  in  the 
flags  of  all  nations.  Many  cynical  blockheads,  who 
are  at  least  a  hundred  years  behind  the  march  of 
mind  and  the  progress  of  public  improvements,  affiect 
to  say  that  this  beautiful  and  florid  style  of  dressing 
in  the  streets  or  at  church  is  vulgar ;  but  we  de- 
nounce such  flagrant  fopperies  of  opinion,  maintain- 
ing that,  so  far  from  being  reprehensible,  it  is  perfectly 
natural,  and  therefore  perfectly  proper.  The  love  of 
finery  is  inherent  in  our  nature ;  it  is  an  inborn  appe- 
tite :  and  all  experience  indicates  that  the  more  igno- 
rant and  unsophisticated  people  are,  the  more  fond 
are  they  of  gewgaws.     The  negro,  (meaning  no  of- 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  47 

fence,  as  it  is  an  illustration,  not  a  comparison),  the 
African  negro  adores  a  painted  gourd,  decked  with 
feathers  of  all  colours;  the  Nooheevans  affect  the 
splendours  of  a  great  whale's-tooth ;  the  Esquimaux 
will  starve  themselves,  to  purchase  a  clam-shell  of  red 
paint ;  the  Indians  sell  their  lands  for  red  leggins  and 
tin  medals  ;  and  the  whites  run  in  debt  for  birds-of- 
paradise,  French  hats,  travelling-chains,  and  Cash- 
mere shawls.  All  this  is  as  it  should  be,  and,  so  far 
from  betokening  effeminacy  or  undue  refinement,  is 
a  sure  indication  of  an  approach  to  the  primitive 
simplicity  of  nature. 

This  barbarous,  or,  more  properly,  natural,  taste  or 
passion  for  finery  pervades  all  classes  of  people  in  this 
delightful  city,  and  if  there  is  any  superiority  of  dress 
observable,  it  is  among  the  most  vulgar  and  ignorant ; 
in  other  words,  those  who  are  nearest  to  a  state  of 
nature.  The  maid  is,  if  possible,  finer  than  the  mis- 
tress ;  displays  as  many  feathers  and  flowers,  and 
exhibits  the  same  rigidity  of  baked  curls,  so  that,  in 
walking  the  streets,  were  it  not  for  that  infallible 
private  mark  of  a  gentlewoman,  the  foot  and  ankle, 
nobody  but  their  friends  could  tell  the  difference. 
There  are,  as  we  have  been  credibly  informed,  Lom- 
bard and  Banking  Companies  incorporated  by  the 
legislature,  on  purpose  to  maintain  this  beautiful 
equality  in  dress,  every  article  of  which,  from  a 
worked  muslin  to  a  lace  veil,  may  be  hired,  "at  prices 
to  accommodate  customers,"  so  that  a  fine  lady  can 
be  fitted  out  for  a  cruise,  at  a  minute's  warning. 

This  beautiful  exemplification  of  a  perfect  equality 
extends  to  the  male  sex  also.  He  that  brushes  his 
master's  coat  often  wears  a  better  coat  than  his  mas- 


48  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

ter;  and  Cuffee  himself,  the  free  gentleman  of  colour, 
struts  up  and  down  Broadway,  arm-in-arm,  four- 
abreast,  elbowing  the  fine  ladies,  clothed  from  head  to 
foot  in  regent's-cloth  of  fourteen  dollars  the  yard.  All 
this  redounds  unutterably  to  the  renown  of  the  city, 
and  causes  it  to  be  the  delight  of  sojourners  and  trav- 
ellers, who,  instead  of  having  their  eyes  offended  and 
their  feelings  outraged  by  exhibitions  of  inglorious 
linsey-woolsey  and  vulgar  calico,  see  nothing  all 
around  them  but  a  universal  diffusion  of  happiness. 
What  is  it  to  us  tourists  where  the  money  comes 
from,  or  who  pays  for  all  this  ?  The  records  of  bank- 
ruptcy and  the  annals  of  the  police  are  not  the  polite 
studies  of  us  men  of  pleasure,  nor  have  we  any  con- 
cern with  the  in  sides  of  houses  or  the  secrets  of  do- 
mestic life,  so  long  -as  the  streets  look  gay,  and  every 
body  in  them  seems  happy.  What  is  it  to  us,  if  the 
husband  or  the  father  of  the  gay  butterfly  we  admire 
as  she  flutters  along,  clothed  in  the  spoils  of  the  four 
quarters  of  the  globe,  is  at  that  very  moment  shiver- 
ing in  the  jaws  of  bankruptcy,  perspiring  out  his 
harassed  soul  in  inward  anxieties  to  weather  another 
day  of  miserable  splendours,  and  resorting  to  all  the 
mean,  degrading  expedients  of  the  times,  to  deceive 
the  world  a  little  longer.  The  city  is  charming  —  the 
theatres  and  churches  are  full  of  splendours ;  the 
hotels  and  boarding-houses  abound  in  all  that  can 
pamper  the  appetite;  the  habitations  are  all  show- 
ily furnished ;  all  that  we  see  is  delightful ;  and  as 
to  what  we  don't  see,  it  exists  not  to  us.  We  travel- 
lers belong  to  the  world,  and  the  world,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  its  cares  and  troubles,  belongs  to  us. 

Now,  as  there  is  a  highly  meritorious  class  of  travel- 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  49 

lers,  who  are  almost  contiiinally  in  motion  and  never 
stay  long  in  one  place  if  they  can  help  it,  to  whom  it 
may  be  important  to  know  the  secrets  of  the  art  of 
living,  as  the  butterflies  live,  without  toiling  or  spin- 
ning, and  tasting  all  the  fruits  of  the  field  without 
having  any  fields  themselves,  we  commend  them  to 
the  records  of  bankruptcy,  the  police,  and  the  Quarter- 
Sessions.  It  is  there  they  will  become  adepts  in  this 
most  important  of  all  branches  of  human  knowledge. 
Any  fool  may  live  by  working  and  saving :  but  to  live, 
and  live  well  too,  by  idleness  and  unthrift  —  to  enjoy 
the  luxuries  of  taverns,  fine  clothes,  canvas-backs, 
turtle-soup,  and  Bingham  wine,  without  money,  and 
without  credit  —  is  the  summum  honum,  and  can  only 
be  attained  by  long  experience,  and  a  close  attendance 
upon  the  police-courts.  If  High- Constable  Hays 
would  only  give  to  the  world,  agreeably  to  the  fashion 
of  the  times,  his  "  Reminiscences,"  what  a  treasure 
they  would  be  to  the  class  of  tourists  we  are  address- 
ing I  There  they  might  behold  the  grand  drama  of 
life  behind  the  scenes,  and  under  the  stage  ;  there  they 
might  learn  how  to  dress  elegantly  at  the  expense  of 
those  stupid  blockheads  who  prefer  living  by  the 
sweat  of  their  own  brows  to  living  by  the  sweat  of 
those  of  other  people ;  there  they  would  be  taught  by 
a  thousand  examples,  not  how  to  cut  their  coats  ac- 
cording to  their  own  cloth,  but  that  of  their  neigh- 
bours, and  learn  how  easy  it  is  to  be  a  fine  gentleman 
—  that  is  to  say,  to  live  at  a  hotel,  get  credit  with 
a  tailor,  diddle  the  landlord  and  the  doctor,  and  pick 
a  few  pockets  and  a  few  locks,  by  way  of  furnishing 
one's  self  with  a  watch  and  a  diamond  breast-pin. 
There,  too,  they  would  learn  how  a  little  staining  of  the 

4 


50  THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

whiskers,  a  new  wig,  and  an  alias ^  enable  a  man 
to  come  forth  from  the  state-prison,  "redeemed,  re- 
generated, and  disenthralled,"  by  the  irresistible  genius 
of  universal  philanthropy.  Seriously  therefore  do  we 
hope  the  high-constable  will  employ  his  otium  cum 
dignitate  in  a  work  of  this  kind,  for  the  benefit  of  the 
inexperienced  in  the  art  of  raising  the  wind. 

But  to  return  from  this  digression,  which  we  have 
indulged  in  from  motives  of  pure  philanthropy.  By 
the  way,  we  shall  frequently,  in  the  course  of  this 
work,  encourage  these  little  excursive  irregularities  of 
the  pen,  being  firmly  of  opinion  that  no  person  ought 
to  make  the  Grand  Northern  Tour  who  has  any  better 
use  for  his  money  than  in  buying,  or  for  his  time  than 
in  reading,  this  book. 

In  New  York  there  is  an  unfailing  round  of  amuse- 
ments, for  every  hour  of  the  day  as  well  as  the  night. 
There  is  the  Academy  of  Arts,  where  the  amateur 
of  painting  may  see  pictures  which  cost  more  than 
Domenichino  received  for  his  communion  of  St.  Je- 
rome, or  Raphael  for  his  masterpiece*  and  which, 
strange  to  say,  are  not  worth  above  half  as  much. 
Nothing  is  more  easy  than  to  kill  an  hour  or  two  of  a 
dull  morning  at  the  Academy,  from  whence  we  would 
advise  the  intelligent  tourist,  if  of  the  male  sex,  to 
adjourn  to  the  far  famed  gastronomium,  (in  the  ver- 
nacular, oyster-stand),  of  Jerry  Duncan,  who  certainly 
opens  an  oyster  with  more  grace  and  tournure  than 
any  man  living.  But  alas !  how  few  —  how  very  few, 
in  this  degenerate  age,  understand  the  glorious  mys- 
teries of  eating  !  Some  fry  their  oysters  in  batter  — 
infamous  custom !  Some  sophisticate  them  with 
pepper  and  salt  —  (that  ought  to  be  a  state-prison 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  51 

offence!)  —  some  with  vinegar  and  butter — (away 
with  them  to  the  tread-mill !)  Others  stew,  broil, 
roast,  or  make  them  into  villanous  pies  —  hard  labour 
for  life,  or  solitary  imprisonment,  ought  to  be  the  lot 
of  these.  And  others,  O  murder  most  foul !,  cut  them 
in  two  before  they  eat  them ;  a  practice  held  in  utter 
abhorrence  by  all  persons  of  common  humanity  — 
this  ought  to  be  death  by  the  law.  As  our  reader 
loves  oysters  —  as  he  aspires  to  become  an  adept  in 
the  great  science  —  as  he  hopes  to  be  saved  —  let  him 
never  cut  his  oyster  in  two  pieces,  or  eat  it  otherwise 
than  raw.  If  his  mouth  is  not  large  enough  to  swal- 
low it  whole,  let  him  leave  it  with  a  sigh  to  the  lips 
of  some  more  fortunate  being,  to  whom  nature  has 
been  more  bountiful.  A  reasonable  sojourn  at  Jerry's 
will  bring  round  the  hour  to  one  o'clock,  when  it  is 
proper  to  take  the  field  in  Broadway,  or  at  least  to  go 
home  and  prepare  for  that  solemn  duty.  From  this 
till  dinner,  the  intelligent  tourist  can  employ  his  time 
to  great  advantage,  in  walking  back  and  forth  from 
the  Battery  to  the  south  corner  of  Chambers  Street. 
Beyond  this  he  must  not  stir  a  step,  as  all  besides 
is  terra  i7icog?iita  to  the  fashionable  world.  People 
will  think  you  are  going  to  Cheapside,  or  Bond  Street, 
or  Hudson  Square,  or  some  other  haberdashery  place, 
to  buy  bargains,  if  you  are  found  beyond  the  north 
corner  of  the  Park.  At  three,  return  to  your  lodgings 
to  dress  for  dinner.  This  must  positively  be  cele- 
brated in  Broadway,  in  one  of  those  majestic  old 
houses  which  the  piety  of  young  heirs  consecrates  to 
the  god  of  eating,  in  honour  of  their  ancestors.  We 
are  not  ignorant  that  some  ill-natured  people  affirm 
this  is  not  their  motive,  but  that  they  are  actuated  by 


52  THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

the  filthy  lucre  of  gain,  in  thus  turning  their  fathers' 
homes  into  dens  of  tourists;  but  we  ourselves  are 
fully  convinced  they  are  impelled  by  sheer  public 
spirit,  warmed  by  the  irresistible  effervescence  of 
universal  philanthropy,  the  warmth  of  which  pervades 
this  whole  city,  insomuch  that  there  is  scarcely  a  place 
extant  where  people  are  more  cordially  taken  in.  Let 
no  one  blame  these  pious  young  heirs,  since,  in  the 
east,  nobody  but  kings  and  saints  built  caravanseras 
for  the  accommodation  of  travellers  ;  and,  in  the  west, 
none  but  people  of  a  devout  and  royal  spirit  erect 
taverns.  The  only  difference  is,  and  it  is  not  very 
material,  the  caravanseras  charge  nothing  for  lodging 
travellers,  and  the  taverns  make  them  pay  double. 

And  now  comes  the  hour  —  the  most  important 
hour  of  every  day  between  the  cradle  and  the  grave  — 
THE  DINNER  hour!  On  this  point  it  is  necessary  to  be 
particular.  Look  out  for  the  sheep's-head,  the  venison, 
the  canvas-backs.  Don't  let  your  eyes,  any  more  than 
your  mouth,  be  idle  a  moment ;  but  be  careful  not  to 
waste  your  energies  on  common-place  dishes.  First, 
eat  your  soup  as  quick  as  possible  without  burning 
your  mouth.  Then  your  fish  —  then  your  venison  — 
then  your  miscellaneous  delights  —  and  conclude  with 
game.  At  the  climax  comes  the  immortal  canvas- 
back,  whose  peculiar  location  to  the  south,*  in  our 
opinion  gives  a  decided  superiority  to  that  favoured 
portion  of  the  universe ;  and  entitles  it  to  furnish  the 
less  favoured  parts  of  the  United  States  with  presi- 
dents, so  long  as  it  furnishes  us  with  this  incompara- 
ble water-fowl.     From  our  souls,  which  according  to 

*  We  have  heard  that  canvas-hacks  have  been  seen  in  Rhode  Island.  K 
the  natives  can  prove  this,  we  think  they  ought  to  furnish  the  next  president. 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  53 

some  good  authorities  are  seated  in  the  palate  —  from 
om'  souls,  we  pity  the  wretched  inhabitants  of  the  old 
world  —  wretched  in  the  absence  of  even  tolerable 
oysters,  and  wretched  beyond  all  wretchedness  in  the 
utter  destitution  of  canvas-backs  and  Newtown  pip- 
pins. 

Respecting  wines,  there  is  some  diversity  of  opin- 
ion. Some  prefer  French  wines,  such  as  Burgundy, 
Chateau- JMargaux,  Lafitte,  Latour,  Sauterne,  and  Sil- 
lery.  Others  affect  the  purple  and  amber  juices  of 
the  Rhine,  affirming  that  the  real  Johannisberg  is  in- 
imitable. Others  again  prefer  the  more  substantial 
product  of  Spain,  Portugal,  and  the  veritable  Hespe- 
rides  —  the  group  of  tlie  Madeiras  —  maintaining  that 
the  existence  of  the  people  of  this  world,  before  the 
discovery  of  these  last,  is  one  of  those  miracles  not  to 
be  accounted  for,  like  that  of  a  toad  in  a  block  of 
marble.  As  there  is  no  such  thing  as  accounting  for 
tastes,  or  reconciling  them,  we  would  propose  an 
amicable  medium,  that  of  sipping  a  little  of  each  in 
the  course  of  the  afternoon,  thus  reconciling  the  con- 
flicting claims  of  these  most  exquisite  competitors. 
A  bottle  of  each  would  be  rather  too  much  for  the 
head  or  pocket  of  a  single  amateur,  wherefore  we 
w^ould  recommend  some  half  a  dozen  to  club  their 
wines,  by  which  means  this  objection  would  be  obvi- 
ated. By  the  time  these  ceremonies  are  got  through, 
the  company  will  be  in  a  condition  to  adjourn  to  the 
theatres,  with  a  proper  zest  for  the  Flying  Dutchman, 
Peter  Wilkins,  and  "  I've  been  roaming."  After  sit- 
ting or  sleeping  out  these  elegant  spectacles,  it  is  rea- 
sonable to  suppose  our  traveller  will  be  hungry,  and, 
being  hungry,  it  is  reasonable  that  he  should  eat. 


54  THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

Wherefore  it  is  our  serious  advice  that  he  adjourn  forth- 
with to  the  Goose  and  Gridiron.  After  partaking  of  a 
good  supper  there  he  may  go  anywhere  he  pleases, 
except  home,  it  being  proper  that  a  rational  and  en- 
lightened traveller  should  make  the  most  of  his  time. 

To  the  young  female  tourist,  encumbered  with  time 
and  papa's  money,  New  York  affords  inexhaustible 
resources.  The  mere  amusement  of  dressins:  for 
breakfast,  for  Broadway,  and  for  dinner,  and  undress- 
ing for  evening  parties,  is  a  never-failing  refuge  from 
ennui.  In  the  intervals  between  dressing,  shopping, 
visiting,  and  receiving  visits,  it  is  advisable  for  her,  if 
she  is  fond  of  retirement  and  literary  pursuits,  to  seat 
herself  at  one  of  the  front  windows,  on  the  ground- 
floor  of  the  hotel,  with  a  Waverley  or  a  Cooper,  where 
she  can  comport  herself  after  the  fashion  of  people  in 
divers  old-fashioned  pictures  which  I  have  seen ;  that 
is  to  say,  hold  her  book  open,  and  at  the  same  time 
complacently  contemplate  the  spectators.  The  follow- 
ing list  of  "  Resources"  is  confidently  recommended  to 
our  female  travelling  readers. 

Lying  in  bed  till  ten. 

Dressing  for  breakfast.  N.  B.  If  there  is  nobody 
in  the  hotel  worth  dressing  for,  any  thing  will  do  :  or, 
better,  take  breakfast  in  bed,  and  another  nap. 

Breakfast  till  eleven.  N.  B.  It  is  not  advisable  to 
eat  canvas-backs,  oysters,  or  lobsters,  at  breakfast.  A 
little  smoked  salmon,  a  modicum  of  frizzled  beef,  or  a 
bit  of  chicken  about  as  big  as  a  bee's  wing,  is  all  that 
can  safely  be  indulged.  N.  B.  Beefsteaks  and  mut- 
ton-chops are  wholly  inadmissible,  except  for  married 
ladies. 

Twelve  to  one.     Dress  for  shopping.     N.  B.  The 


THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  55 

female  tourist  must  put  on  her  best,  it  being  the  fash- 
ion in  New  York  for  ladies  and  their  maids  to  dress 
for  walking  as  if  they  were  going  to  church  or  a  ball. 
Care  must  be  taken  to  guard  against  damp  pavements, 
by  putting  on  prunello  shoes.  If  the  weather  is  dry, 
white  satin  is  preferable. 

One  till  three.  Sauntering  up  and  down  Broadway, 
and  diversifying  the  pleasure  by  a  little  miscellaneous 
shopping  —  looking  in  at  the  milliners,  the  jewellers, 
&c.  N.  B.  No  lady  should  hesitate  to  buy  any  thing 
because  she  does  not  want  it,  since  this  dealing  in 
superfluities  is  the  very  essence  of  everything  genteel. 
Above  all,  never  return  home  but  with  an  empty 
purse. 

At  three,  the  brokers,  who  set  the  fashion  in  New 
York,  go  home  to  their  canvas-backs  and  Bingham 
wine,  and  it  becomes  vulgar  to  be  seen  in  Broadway. 

Dinner  at  four,  the  earliest  hour  permitted  among 
people  of  pretensions.  Owing  to  the  barbarous  prac- 
tice of  banishing  ladies  from  all  participation  in  the 
learned  discussions  of  wines,  the  period  between  din- 
ner and  dressing  for  the  evening  party  is  the  most 
trying  portion  of  female  existence.  If  they  walk  in 
Broadway,  they  will  see  nobody  worth  seeing;  of 
course,  there  is  no  use  in  walking.  A  nap,  or  a  Wa- 
verley,  or  perhaps  both,  is  the  only  resource. 

It  will  be  expedient  to  wake  up  at  eight,  for  the 
purpose  of  dressing  for  a  party  ;  else  there  is  no  earthly 
reason  why  you  may  not  sleep  till  half-past-ten  or 
eleven,  when  it  is  time  to  think  of  going,  or  you  may 
possibly  miss  some  of  the  refreshments.  N.  B.  A 
lady  may  eat  as  much  as  she  pleases  at  a  ball,  or  a 
conversazione. 


56  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

Should  there  be  no  party  for  the  evening,  the  thea- 
tres are  a  never-failing  resource  of  intellectual  enjoy- 
ment. The  sublime  actions  of  The  Flying  Dutchman 
and  Peter  Wilkins,*  and  the  sublime  displays  in  "  I've 
been  roaming,"  f  cannot  fail  to  enlighten  the  under- 
standing, refine  the  taste,  and  improve  the  morals  of 
the  rising  generation,  as  well  as,  if  not  better  than, 
bridewell  or  the  penitentiary.  N.  B.  The  bashful  ladies 
generally  shut  both  their  eyes  at,  "  I'vq  been  roaming." 
Those  who  retain  a  fragment  of  the  faculty  of  blush- 
ing, open  only  one  eye ;  but  such  as  are  afraid  of 
nothing,  use  a  quizzing-glass,  that  nothing  may  es- 
cape them. 

After  all,  there  is  nobody  that  can- do  full  justice  to 
the  ever-changing  shadows  and  lights  of  fashionable 
dress,  manners,  and  amusements,  but  a  sprightly  girl, 
just  come  out  with  all  her  soaring  anticipations  un- 
dipped by  experience,  and  all  her  capacities  of  enjoy- 
ment fresh  and  unsoiled.  We  will  therefore  take 
occasion  to  insert  in  this  place  two  letters,  written  by 
a  young  lady  of  the  party  from  whose  correspondence 
we  have  already  made  such  liberal  selections. 


LUCIA  CULPEPER  TO  MARIA  MEYNELL. 

New  York, . 

My  dear  Maria,  —  I  could  live  here  forever.  We 
have  a  charming  suite  of  rooms  fronting  on  Broad- 
way, that  would  be  a  perfect  paradise,  were  it  not 

[*  "  Peter  Wilkins,  or  The  Flying  Islanders,"  and  "  The  Fh-ing  Dutch- 
man", were  spectacular  dramas  of  the  day  —  the  first-named,  fairy,  the  sec- 
ond, nautical.] 

[t  This  was  a  song  arranged  by  Charles  E.  Horn  for  Madame  Vestris,  in 
Loudon.] 


THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  57 

for  the  noise,  which  prevents  one's  hearing  one's  self 
speak,  and  the  dust,  which  prevents  one's  seeing. 
But  still  it  is  delightful  to  sit  at  the  window  with  a 
Waverley,  and  see  the  moving  world  forever  passing 
to  and  fro,  with  unceasing  footsteps.  Everybody,  as 
well  as  everything,  appears  to  be  in  motion.  The 
carriages  rattle  through  the  streets ;  the  carts  dance  as 
if  they  were  running  races  with  them ;  the  ladies  trip 
along  in  all  the  colours  of  the  rainbow ;  and  the  gen- 
tlemen look  as  though  they  actually  had  something 
to  do.  They  all  walk  as  if  they  were  in  a  hurry.  On 
my  remarking  this  to  my  uncle,  he  replied,  in  his 
usual  sarcastic  manner :  "  Yes,  they  all  seem  as  if  they 
were  running  away  from  an  indictment."  I  did  not 
comprehend  what  he  meant.  Every  thing  is  so  differ- 
rent,  that  it  does  not  seem  to  me  possible  that  I  should 
be  in  the  same  world,  or  that  I  am  the  same  person  I 
was  a  month  ago. 

Sitting  at  my  window  on  the  high  hills  of  Santee, 
I  saw  nothing  but  the  repose,  the  stillness,  and  the 
majesty  of  nature.  At  a  distance,  and  all  around, 
the  world  was  no  more  than  a  faint  outline  of  blue 
mountains  that  seemed  almost  incorporated  with  the 
skies.  Nothing  moved  around  me,  but  the  mists  of 
morning,  rising  at  the  beck  of  the  sun ;  the  passing 
•  clouds;  the  waving  foliage  of  the  trees;  the  little 
river  winding  through  the  valley  ;  and  the  sun  riding 
athwart  the  heavens.  The  silence  was  only  inter- 
rupted at  intervals  by  the  voice  or  the  whistle  of  the 
blacks,  about  the  house  or  in  the  fields ;  the  lowing 
of  the  cattle  wandering  in  the  recesses  of  the  hills ; 
the  echo  of  the  hunter's  gun,  or  the  crash  of  the  fall- 
ing tree ;  the  soft  murmurings  of  the  river  under  the 


68  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

window;  and,  sometimes,  the  roaring  of  the  whirl- 
wind through  the  forest,  or  the  reverberation  of  the 
thunder  among  the  distant  rocks.  My  uncle  was 
master  of  all  that  could  be  seen  without — I,  mistress 
of  all  within.  There  all  was  nature  —  here  all  is  art. 
Every  thing  is  made  with  hands,  except  the  living 
things ;  and,  of  these,  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  may 
fairly  be  set  down  as  the  work  of  the  milliners  and 
tailors.  Even  the  horses  are  sophisticated,  as  my  un- 
cle will  have  it ;  and,  instead  of  having  long,  flowing 
tails  and  manes,  amble  about  with  ears,  tail,  and 
mane  cropt,  as  if  they  had  been  under  the  hands  of 
the  barber. 

But  when  I  look  in  the  glass,  it  seems  that  not  all 
the  changes  of  animate  and  inanimate  nature  equal 
those  I  exhibit  in  my  own  person.  The  morning 
after  I  came  here,  I  received  a  circular;  don't  let 
your  eyes  start  out  of  your  head,  Maria  —  yes,  a  cir- 
cular :  and  from  whom  do  you  suppose  ?  Why,  a 
milliner !  Only  think  what  a  person  of  consequence 
I  must  be,  all  at  once !  It  informed  me,  in  the  politest 
terms,  that  Madame had  just  received  an  as- 
sortment of  the  latest  Paris  fashions,  which  would  be 
opened  for  inspection  the  next  day.  I  was  deter- 
mined to  have  the  first  choice  of  a  hat;  so  I  got  up 
early,  and  proceeded  with  Henney  to  the  milliner's 
rooms,  which,  to  my  great  surprise,  I  found  full  of 
fine  ladies,  who,  as  I  afterwards  understood,  had  not 
been  up  at  such  an  hour  since  the  last  fashionable  ex- 
hibition of  Parisian  finery.  You  never  saw  such  a 
crowd ;  such  tumbling  of  silks  and  gauzes ;  such  per- 
plexity of  choice ;  such  profound  doubts ;  such  hesi- 
tating decision ;  such  asking  of  everybody's  opinions, 


THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS.  59 

and  following  none ;  and  such  lingering,  endless  ex- 
aminations. There  was  one  lady  that  tried  on  every 
hat  in  the  place,  and  went  away  at  last  in  despair.  I 
don't  wonder,  for  it  was  the  choice  of  Hercules,  not 
between  t^vo,  but  between  hundreds.  For  my  part, 
I  did  nothing  but  wonder.  You  never  saw  such  curi- 
osities as  these  Parisian  hats.  It  is  quite  impossible 
to  describe  them  :  I  can  only  give  you  an  idea  of  the 
size,  by  saying  that  mine,  which  is  very  moderate, 
measures  three  feet  across,  and  has  a  suit  of  embel- 
lishments, bows,  puffs,  points,  feathers,  flowers,  and 
wheat-sheaves,  that  make  it  look  almost  twice  as 
large.  The  rule  is,  here,  for  the  smallest  ladies  to 
wear  the  largest  hats,  so  that  my  uncle  insists  upon 
it  they  look  like  toad-stools,  with  a  vast  head  and  a 
little  stem.  Mine  was  the  cheapest  thing  ever  offered 
for  sale  in  New  York,  as  madame  assured  me  ;  it 
cost  only  t\venty-eight  dollars.  It  would  not  go  into 
the  bandbox,  so  Henney  paraded  it  in  her  hand.  A 
man  on  horseback  met  her  just  as  she  was  turning  a 
corner,  and  the  horse  was  so  frightened  that  he  reared 
backwards  and  came  very  near  throwing  his  rider. 
One  of  our  horses  is  lame,  and  my  uncle  has  ad- 
vertised for  one  that  can  stand  the  encounter  of  a 
full-dressed  fine  lady.  If  he  can  do  that,  the  old  gen- 
tleman says,  he  can  stand  any  thing. 

The  next  thing  I  did  was  to  bespeak  a  couple  of 
walking-dresses  —  one  of  batiste,  the  other  of  silk 
plaid.  They  cost  me  only  fifty-six  dollars,  which  was 
quite  moderate,  seeing  they  had,  or  were  said  to  have, 
in  the  bill,  ninety  odd  yards  of  one  thing  or  another  in 
them.  I  believe  I  must  drop  my  money  in  the  street, 
for  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  apply  to  my  uncle  so 


60  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

often.  He  takes  it  all  good-humouredly,  for  he  is  a 
generous  old  soul  —  only  he  has  his  revenge,  in  laugh- 
ing at  me,  and  comparing  me  to  all  sorts  of  queer 
things.  I  was  surprised,  when  I  first  went  out,  to 
see  what  beautiful  curling  hair  they  all  had  —  ladies, 
ladies'  maids,  and  little  babies,  all  had  the  most 
charming  profusion  you  ever  saw.  This  struck  me 
very  much,  as  you  know  very  few  have  curling  hair  to 
the  south,  except  the  negroes.  And  such  curls,  too ! 
Dear  me,  Maria,  it  would  make  your  hair  stand  on 
end  to  see  them.  They  look  more  like  sausages  than 
any  thing  else  —  and  I  thought,  to  be  sure,  they  must 
be  starched.  On  expressing  my  admiration  to  Ste- 
phen, he  laughed  outrageously,  and  assured  me  most 
solemnly,  that  every  one  of  these  sausages  was 
purchased  —  not  at  the  sausage-makers,  but  at  the 
curl-shops,  where  you  could  buy  them  either  of  liorse- 
hair,  mohair,  or  human  hair,  and  of  any  size  and  col- 
our you  pleased.  He  assured  me  it  was  impossible 
to  live  five  minutes  in  New  York  without  them,  and 
advised  me  to  procure  a  set  without  delay.  You'd 
laugh  to  see  mine.  They  are  as  stiff  as  the  powder 
and  pomatum  of  Doctor  Brady's  wig  could  make 
them :  they  are  hollow  in  the  middle,  which  my  uncle 
assures  me  is  very  convenient,  now  that  the  ladies 
wear  no  pockets.  One  can  put  a  variety  of  small 
matters  in  them  as  we  did  in  our  muffs,  formerly. 
Do  you  know,  they  bake  them  in  the  oven  to  make 
them  stiff.  My  uncle  gives  another  reason  for  it, 
which  I  won't  tell  you. 

My  bonnet  and  curls  seem  to  have  almost  con- 
quered Stephen,  who  declares  he  has  seen  nothing 
equal  to  my  "  costume,"  as  he  calls  it,  since  he  left 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  61 

Paris.  He  has  actually  offered  to  walk  with  me  in 
Broadway,  and  did  us  the  honour  to  go  with  us  to  the 

theatre,  one  stormy  night.     To  be  sm'e,  Madame 

danced.  You  never  saw  such  droll  capers,  Maria :  I 
declare  I  hardly  knew  which  way  to  look.  But  all 
the  ladies  applauded ;  so  I  suppose  I  don't  know 
what  is  proper,  not  having  seen  much  of  the  world. 
Stephen  was  in  ecstacies,  and  bravoed  and  encored, 
till  my  uncle  bade  him  be  quiet,  and  not  make  a  jack- 
anapes of  himself.  I  was  delighted  with  the  theatre. 
It  is  lighted  with  gas ;  and  the  play  was  one  of  the 
finest  shows  I  ever  beheld  ;  —  processions  —  thunder 
and  lightning,  and  dancing  —  fighting  —  rich  dresses 
—  a  great  deal  of  fiddling,  and  very  little  poetry,  wit, 
or  sense.  I  was  a  little  disappointed  at  this :  but 
Stephen  says,  nothing  is  considered  so  vulgar  as  a 
sensible,  well-written  play.  IVIusic  and  dancing  are 
all  in  all  —  and,  as  it  is  much  easier  to  cut  capers,  and 
produce  sounds  without  sense  than  with  it,  this  is  an 
excellent  taste  —  for  it  saves  a  great  deal  of  useless 
labour  in  writing  plays,  as  well  as  acting  them  prop- 
erly. I  sometimes  think  Stephen's  notions  are  a  little 
strange ;  and  my  heart,  as  well  as  my  understanding, 
revolts  at  some  of  his  decisions.  But  he  has  been 
abroad,  and  ought  to  know.  Sometimes  I  think  I 
should  like  to  know  Graves'  opinion :  but  he  hardly 
ever  speaks  unless  spoken  to ;  and  ever  since  I  got 
such  a  great  bonnet,  and  such  great  curls,  he  scarcely 
seems  to  know  me.  As  for  my  uncle,  he  don't  make 
any  secret  of  his  opinions.  But  then  he  is  out  of 
fashion  ;  and,  as  I  don't  find  any  body  agree  with  him, 
I  think  he  must  be  wronsr. 

o 

Next  week,  we  think  of  setting  out  for  the  Springs. 


62  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

My  uncle  has  forsworn  the  steam-boats,  ever  since  our 
voyage  from  Charleston.  So  we  are  to  go  by  land 
up  the  right  bank  of  the  Hudson,  and  return  on  the 
other  side,  unless  we  should  visit  Boston,  as  my  uncle 
sometimes  threatens.  Good  bye,  my  dear  INIaria ;  I 
long  to  see  you:  —  don't  you  long  to  see  me,  in  my 
incomprehensible,  indescribable  hat,  and  my  baked 
curls  ?  I  must  not  omit  my  travelling-chain,  which  is 
a  gold  cable  of  awful  dimensions,  without  which  no 
lady  of  any  pretensions  can  visit  the  Springs.  Alas  I 
poor  woman!  born  to  be  the  slave  of  a  hundred  task- 
masters ;  —  first,  of  the  boarding-school,  where  she  is 
put  to  the  torture  of  the  dancing-master  and  the 
school-mistress  ;  next,  of  fashion,  when  she  is  obliged 
to  appear  a  fool,  rather  than  be  singular;  and  last  and 
worst,  of  her  husband,  the  very  Nero  of  tyrants.  Pray, 
sometimes  stop  in,  and  see  how  my  old  nurse,  Han- 
nah, gets  on.     Adieu. 

P.  S.  I  wish  you  could  only  hear  that  good- 
natured,  pragmatical  old  soul,  my  kind,  generous 
uncle,  rail  at  almost  every  thing  he  hears  and  sees. 
He  calls  himself  an  old  fool  fifty  times  a  day,  and 
says  that  old  people  are  like  old  trunks,  which  will  do 
very  well  while  they  are  let  alone  in  a  corner,  but 
never  fail  to  tumble  to  pieces  if  you  move  them.  He 
pronounced  the  steam-boat  a  composition  of  horrors, 
such  as  modern  ingenuity,  stimulated  by  paper-money, 
stock-companies,  and  I  know  not  what,  could  alone 
produce ;  and  congratulates  himself  continually  upon 
living  in  a  remote  part  of  the  country,  where  there 
are  neither  banks  nor  incorporations,  and  where,  as  he 
says,  indulgent  nature,  by  means  of  high  mountains 
and  other  benevolent  precautions,  has  made  it  actually 


THE   NEW  MIRROR  FOR   TRAVELLERS.  63 

impossible  to  intrude  either  a  canal  or  a  railroad. 
Every  time  I  come  to  him  for  money,  which  indeed  is 
pretty  often,  for  I  have  found  out  a  hundred  new- 
wants  since  I  came  here,  he  affects  to  scold  me,  and 
declares  that  unless  the  price  of  cotton  and  rice  rises, 
he  shall  be  a  pauper  before  the  end  of  our  journey. 
But  what  annoys  him  most  of  all,  and  indeed  appears 
strange  to  me,  is  to  see  white  men  performing  the 
offices  of  negroes  in  the  south  —  waiting  at  table, 
cleaning  boots,  brushing  clothes,  driving  carriages,  and 
standing  up  behind  them.  He  says  this  is  degrading 
the  race  of  white  men  in  the  scale  of  nature,  and  has 
had  several  hot  discussions  with  an  old  Quaker,  with 
whom  he  somewhere  scraped  acquaintance.  Our 
black  man  Juba,  or  gentleman  of  colour,  (for  that  is 
the  style  here),  is  grown  so  vain  at  being  sometimes 
waited  on  by  white  men,  that  he  is  good  for  nothing 
but  to  parade  up  and  down  Broadway.  Henney  says 
he  is  keeping  a  journal,  and  talks  of  making  up  to  the 
old  Quaker's  daughter ;  I  suppose  on  the  strength  of 
the  good  gentleman's  arguments  about  equality.  To 
conclude,  my  good  uncle  calls  me  a  baggage  and 
Stephen  a  puppy,  twenty  times  a  day.  L.  C. 


LUCLi  CULPEPER  TO  MARIA  MEYXELL. 


New  York,  ■ 


My  DEAR  Maria,  —  How  I  wish  you  were  here  to 
help  me  enjoy  all  the  fine  things  I  see  from  morning 
till  night.  You  know  I  have  no  friends  in  this  place, 
and  among  all  our  party  I  can  find  no  confidante  but 
Henney,  who  ^vonders  ten  times  more  than  I  do.    My 


64  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

uncle,  though  a  most  indulgent  old  soul,  you  know- 
has  a  habit  of  finding  fault  with  every  thing,  and  of 
always  exalting  the  past  at  the  expense  of  the  present, 
which  to  young  people,  to  w^hom  the  present  time 
is  every  thing,  is  quite  odd.  Graves  is  as  grave  as  his 
name,  and  is  all  the  time  taken  up  with  state-prisons, 
alms-houses,  houses  of  refuge,  and  all  sorts  of  institu- 
tions for  making  people  wdser  and  better ;  or,  as  my 
uncle  will  have  it,  idle  and  profligate.  As  for  Ste})heii, 
he  won't  let  me  admire  any  thing  in  peace.  The  mo- 
ment I  begin,  he  discharges  upon  me  a  comparison 
with  something  in  Paris,  Rome  or  London,  w^iich  goes 
near  to  accuse  me  of  a  total  w^ant  of  taste.  If  you 
believe  him,  there  is  nothing  worth  seeing  here  but 
what  comes  from  abroad.  I  am  sure  he'll  never  like 
me  well  enough  to  fulfil  my  uncle's  wishes,  and  that 
is  my  great  comfort.  For  alas !  Maria,  I  fear  he  has 
no  heart ;  and,  judging  from  what  comes  out  of  it,  but 
little  head.  I  don't  want  a  man  to  be  always  crying 
or  talking  sentiment,  or  forever  acting  the  sage  ;  but  a 
heartless  fool  is  the  bane  of  womankind.  You  know 
Stephen's  father  saved  my  uncle's  life  at  the  battle  of 
the  Eutaw  Springs,  and  that  my  uncle  has  long  made 
up  his  mind  to  make  him  my  lord  and  master,  and 
leave  us  his  whole  fortune,  with  the  exception  of  a 
legacy  to  poor  Graves.  The  older  I  grow,  the  more 
I  dislike  this  plan.  But  I  w^ould  not  thwart  my  dear, 
kind,  generous  uncle  —  father  —  if  any  thing  less  than 
my  future  happiness  is  at  stake.  He  calls  Stephen, 
puppy,  jackanapes,  and  dandy,  ten  times  a  day.  But 
I  can  see  his  heart  is  still  set  upon  the  match.  So 
true  is  it,  that  it  is  almost  impossible  for  old  people 
to  give  up  a  long-cherished  and  favourite  plan.     But 


THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  Qo 

I  have  made  up  my  mind  in  the  solitude  of  the  moun- 
tains to  meet  what  may  come  —  come  what  will. 

INIy  head  is  now  full  of  finery,  and  all  my  senses  in 
a  whirl.  I  wish  you  could  see  me.  My  hat  is  so 
large  that  there  is  no  bandbox  on  the  face  of  the  earth 
big  enough  to  accommodate  it ;  and  yet  you  will  be 
surprised  to  hear  that  it  is  fit  neither  for  summer  nor 
winter,  rain  nor  sunshine.  It  will  not  keep  off  either 
one  or  the  other,  and  so  plagues  me  when  I  go  into 
the  street,  that  I  hardly  know  which  way  to  turn  my- 
self. Every  puff  of  wind  nearly  oversets  me.  There 
are  forty-two  yards  of  trimmings,  and  sixty  feathers 
to  it.  My  dress  is  a  full  match  for  my  hat.  It  took 
twenty-three  yards  of  silk,  five  yards  of  satin,  besides, 
"bobbin,  ben-bobbin,"  and  ben-bobbinet,  —  I  don't 
know  what  else  to  call  it  —  beyond  aU  counting. 
You  must  think  I  have  grown  very  much.  I  am  so 
beflounced,  that  my  uncle  laughs  at  me  whenever  I 
come  where  he  is,  and  declares,  that  a  fine  lady  costs 
more  to  fit  her  out  nowadays  than  a  ship  of  the  line. 
What  between  hat  and  flounces,  &c.,  a  lady  has  a 
time  of  it  when  the  wind  blows  and  the  dust  is  flying 
in  clouds,  as  it  does  in  Broadway  all  day  long.  I  en- 
countered a  puff  at  the  corner  of  one  of  the  streets, 
and  there  I  stood,  holding  my  hat  with  one  hand,  and 
my  cardinal-cloak  (which  has  fifty-six  yards  of  various 
commodities  in  it)  with  the  other.  I  thought  I  should 
have  gone  up  like  a  balloon ;  and  stood  stark  still  un- 
til I  came  near  being  run  over  by  a  great  hog,  which 
was  scampering  away  from  some  mischievous  boys. 
At  last  a  sailor  took  compassion  on  me,  and  set  me 
down  at  the  door  of  a  store.  As  he  went  away, 
1   heard    him    say    to    his   companion :     "  My    eyes, 

5 


66  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

Bill,  what  a  press  of  canvass  the  girls  carry  nowa- 
days ! " 

O,  it's  delightful  to  travel,  Maria !  We  had  such  a 
delightful  sail  in  the  steam-boat,  though  we  were  all 
sick;  and  such  a  delightful  party,  if  they  only  had 
been  well.  Only  think  of  sailing  without  sails,  and 
not  caring  which  way  the  wind  blows;  and  going 
eight  miles  an  hour,  happen  what  would.  It  was 
quite  charming ;  but,  for  all  this,  I  was  glad  when  it 
was  over,  and  we  came  into  still  water.  Coming 
into  the  Narrows,  as  they  are  called,  was  like  entering 
a  paradise.  On  one  side  is  Long  Island,  with  its  low 
shores,  studded  w^ith  pretty  houses,  and  with  foliage 
of  various  kinds  mixed  up  with  the  dark  cedars ;  on 
the  other,  Staten  Island,  with  its  high  bluff,  crowned 
by  the  telegraph  and  signal  poles ;  and  beyond,  the 
great  fort  that  put  me  in  mind  of  the  old  castles 
which  Stephen  talks  about.  We  kept  close  to  the 
Long  Island  shore,  along  which  we  glided,  before 
wind  and  tide,  with  the  swiftness  of  wings.  Every 
moment  some  new  beauty  opened  to  our  view.  The 
little  islands  of  the  bay,  crowned  with  castles;  the 
river,  bounded  by  the  lofty  ledge  of  perpendicular 
rocks  called  The  Palisades;  and,  then,  the  queen  of 
the  West,  the  beautiful  city,  with  its  Battery  and  hun- 
dred spires ;  coming  one  after  the  other,  and  at  last 
combined  in  one  beautiful  whole  —  threw  me  almost 
into  raptures,  and  entirely  cured  my  sea-sickness. 
Add  to  this,  the  ships,  vessels,  and  boats,  of  all  sizes, 
from  the  seventy-four  to  the  little  thing  darting  about 
like  a  feather,  with  a  single  person  in  it;  and  the 
grand  opening  of  the  East  River,  with  Brooklyn  and 
the  charming  scenery  beyond,  —  and  you  can  form 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  67 

some  little  idea  of  my  surprise  and  delight.  Signior 
Maccaroni,  as  my  uncle  calls  him,  looked  at  it  with 
perfect  nonchalance.  The  bay  was  nothing  to  the 
bay  of  Naples  ;  and  the  castle,  less  than  nothing,  com- 
pared with  Castel  Nuovo.  Thank  heaven,  I  had  not 
been  abroad  to  spoil  my  relish.  Even  my  uncle  en- 
joyed it,  and  spoke  more  kindly  to  me  than  during 
the  whole  passage.  He  was  very  sick,  and  called  him- 
self an  old  fool  fifty  times  a  day.  I  believe  half  the 
time  he  meant  "  young  fool,"  that  is  me,  for  persuad- 
ing him  to  the  voyage.  Graves'  eyes  sparkled,  but 
as  usual  he  said  nothing.  He  only  gave  me  a  look, 
which  said  as  plainly  as  a  thousand  words,  "  how 
beautiful  I "  But  whether  he  meant  me  or  Dame 
Nature  is  more  than  I  can  tell. 

The  moment  we  touched  the  wharf,  there  was  an 
irruption  of  the  Goths  and  Vandals,  as  my  uncle 
called  the  hackney-coachmen,  and  the  porters,  who 
risked  their  necks  in  jumping  aboard.  "  Carriage,  sir," 
—  "Baggage,  sir,"  —  "City  Hotel,  sir,"  —  "Mansion 
House,"  —  "Mrs.  jMann's,"  —  were  reiterated  a  thou- 
sand times  ;  and  I  thought  half  a  dozen  of  them  would 
have  fought  for  our  trunks,  they  disputed  and  swore 
so  terribly.  Stephen  declared  it  was  worse  than 
London ;  and  Graves  said  it  put  him  in  mind  of  the 
contest  between  the  Greeks  and  Trojans  for  the  body 
of  poor  Patroclus.  My  uncle  called  them  hard  names, 
and  flourished  his  stick,  but  it  would  not  do.  When 
we  got  to  the  hotel,  I  thought  we  had  mistaken  some 
palace  for  a  public-house.  Such  mirrors  —  such  cur- 
tains—  such  carpets  — such  sofas  —  such  chairs!  I 
was  almost  afraid  to  sit  down  upon  them.  Even 
Stephen  evinced  his  approbation,  and  repeated  over 


68  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

and  over  again  :  "  Upon  my  soul,  clever  —  quite  clever 
—  very  clever  indeed,  upon  my  soul."  My  uncle  says, 
all  this  finery  comes  out  of  the  cotton-plantations  and 
rice-swamps ;  and  that  the  negroes  of  the  south  work 
like  horses,  that  their  masters  may  spend  their  money 
like  asses  in  the  north. 

Poor  Eenneij  does  nothing  but  stand  stock-still  with 
her  mouth  and  eyes  wide  open,  and  is  of  no  more  use 
to  me  than  a  statue.  She  is  in  every  body's  way  — 
and  in  her  own  way  too,  I  believe.  I  took  her  with 
me  the  other  day  to  a  milliner's,  to  bring  home  some 
of  my  finery.  She  stopped  at  every  window,  with 
such  evident  tokens  of  delight,  that  she  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  boys,  and  came  very  near  being 
mobbed.  Missing  her,  I  was  obliged  to  turn  back, 
and  found  her  in  ecstasies  with  a  picture  of  Madame 
Hutin  dancing  before  a  droll  figure  in  a  fur  cap  and 
spectacles.  Juba  is  keeping  a  journal,  I  believe,  for 
you  know  that  my  uncle,  while  he  abuses  the  practice 
with  his  tongue,  assents  to  it  in  his  heart,  and  humours 
his  slaves  more,  perhaps,  than  a  professed  philanthro- 
pist in  his  situation  would  do.  I  should  like  to  see 
Juba's  lucubrations. 

I  begin  to  be  weary  —  so,  good  night,  my  dear 
Maria,     I  will  write  again  soon.  Your  LuaA. 

P.  S.  What  do  you  think,  Maria  ?  —  whisper  it  not 
to  the  telltale  echoes  of  the  high  hills  of  Santee  —  they 
say  bishops  and  pads  are  coming  into  fashion.  I  have 
seen  several  ladies  that  looked  very  suspicious. 

Besides  eating,  and  the  various  other  resources  of 
sense  for  passing  the  time  in  New  York,  there  are 
sundry  intellectual  Relights  of  most  rare  diversity  — 


THE   NEW   MIKROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  69 

exhibitions  of  fat  oxen,  to  charm  the  liberal-minded 
amatem-  —  Lord  Byron's  helmet  —  and  Grecian  dogs, 
whose  wonderful  capacity  fully  attests  to  the  aston- 
ished world  that  the  march  of  mind  has  extended  even 
to  the  brute  creation,  insomuch  that  the  difference  be- 
tween instinct  and  reason  is  now  scarcely  perceptible 
to  the  nicest  observer,  and  it  is  the  opinion  of  many 
of  our  learned  men,  that  a  dog  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury is  considerably  wiser  than  a  man  of  the  sixteenth. 
There  are  also  highly  amusing  methods  of  drawing 
teeth,  and  teaching  grammar  and  tachygraphy,  as  well 
as  all  sorts  of  sciences  and  languages,  by  systems  and 
machinery,  which  are  pretended  to  be  original,  but 
which  may  be  found  in  the  famous  Captain  Lemuel 
Gulliver's  voyage  to  Laputa.  There  are  moreover  an 
infinite  number  of  highly  diverting  inventions  for  im- 
proving the  condition  of  lazy  loons,  and  teaching  them 
economy  and  industry,  by  enabling  them  to  live  with- 
out either  at  the  expense  of  other  men.  There  are 
taverns,  where  amateurs  may  drink  and  smoke  all  the 
morning,  without  offence  to  man  or  beast.  There  is 
a  famous  musician,  who  can  imitate  the  barking  of 
dogs  on  his  instrument,  so  as  to  deceive  a  dog  him- 
self, and  whose  "  lady  "  screams  exactly  like  a  cat ;  so 
that  they  make  the  divinest  harmony  that  ever  was 
heard.  There  are  the  ladies'  bonnets  and  curls,  which 
are  worth  travelling  a  hundred  miles  to  see ;  and  their 
—  what  shall  we  call  them?  —  bishops  or  pads,  which 
are  worth  a  voyage  to  the  moon,  to  behold  in  all  their 
majestic  rotundity.  There  is  also  —  no,  there  will 
be,  as  we  are  enabled  to  state  positively  on  the  best 
authority  —  there  will  be  an  exhibition,  which  is  better 
worth  the  attention  of  people  of  real  refined  taste,  than 


70  THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

all  those  just  enumerated  put  together.  The  gentle- 
man has  politely  favoured  us  with  a  programme  of 
his  evening's  exhibition,  with  permission  to  publish  it, 
and  to  announce  to  the  world  of  fashion,  that  he  will 
be  here  on  or  about  the  first  of  June. 

"  You  shall  either  laugh  or  cry." 
THEATRICAL,  DESCRIPTIVE,   PHILOSOPHICAL,  &c. 

Mr.  Hart,  the  preacher  of  natural  religion,  the  play- 
actor, the  tin-pedler,  the  attorney  and  counsellor-at- 
law,  a  lover  of  music,  and  an  admirer  of  the  fair  sex, 
respectfully  informs  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  New 
York,  that  on  or  about  the  first  day  of  June  next,  at 
evening  candle-light,  he  will  go  through  an  act  of  his 
own  composition,  at  some  place  of  fashionable  resort, 
to  consist  of  the  following  parts,  viz.: 

First.  Music  and  dancing,  and  whirling  round  part 
of  the  time  on  one  leg,  and  part  of  the  time  on  two 
legs,  like  a  top,  fifty  times,  without  showing  the  least 
giddiness. 

Second.     An  address  to  Hope,  in  blank  verse. 

Third.  The  diflerence  pointed  out  between  happi- 
ness above  and  happiness  below. 

Fourth.     Music. 

Fifth.  Orlando,  an  imaginary  character,  to  his 
sweetheart. 

Sixth.  Music,  dancing,  and  whirling  round  fifty 
times. 

Seventh.  An  address  to  the  departed  spirit  of 
George  Washington. 

Eighth.     Music. 

Ninth.     The  lover,  solus. 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  71 

Tenth.  Music,  dancing,  and  whirling  round  fifty 
times. 

Eleventh.  Orlando  in  despair  marries  one  he  does 
not  love,  runs  mad,  and  whirls  round  fifty  times  to 
music. 

Twelfth.  Description  of  his  contriving  to  get  a 
divorce  by  means  unprecedented  in  modern  times. 

Thirteenth.  Music,  dancing,  and  whirling  round 
fifty  times. 

To  conclude  with  INIr.  Hart's  acting  the  natural 
fool,  talking  to  tAC  departed  spirits  of  General  Wash- 
ington and  Thomas  Paine,  and  making  crooked 
mouths  and  wry  faces  at  the  audience. 

We  are  much  mistaken  in  the  taste  of  the  town,  if 
this  exhibition  of  Mr.  Hart  will  not  prove  one  of  the 
most  attractive  ever  presented  to  the  patronage  of 
the  fashionable  world,  and  go  near  to  ruin  all  the 
theatres.  The  bill  presents  a  variety  of  attraction 
perfectly  irresistible  to  all  refined  palates.  First,  there 
is  music,  and  dancing,  and  playing  the  teetotum, 
for  the  lovers  of  the  Italian  opera  and  gymnastics; 
then,  an  address  to  Hope,  for  the  lovers  of  poetry; 
then,  a  philosophical  disquisition,  for  the  lovers  of 
philosophy ;  then,  music,  to  put  us  in  a  proper  frame 
to  listen  to  Orlando's  love-letter;  then,  dancing  and 
whirling,  for  the  amateurs  of  the  grand  ballet ;  then, 
an  address  to  a  shade,  for  the  devourers  of  witch  and 
ghost  stories;  then,  a  lover  talking  to  himself,  for 
inamoratos;  then,  running  mad,  for  the  amusement 
of  despairing  young  gentlemen ;  then,  the  contrivance 
for  getting  a  divorce,  which  we  prophesy  will  be  re- 
ceived with  great  applause.     But  the  cream  of  all  will 


72       THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

be  the  playing  of  the  fool  and  making  wry  faces  at  the 
audience,  which  cannot  do  otherwise  than  please  our 
theatrical  amateurs,  unless  they  should  happen  to  have 
been  surfeited  with  it  already.  In  short,  we  think  Mr. 
Hart's  bill  of  fare  fairly  distances  all  play-bills,  not 
excepting  Peter  Wilkins,  and  that  Mr.  Hart  himself 
must  possess  a  greater  versatility  of  talent  than  the 
gentlemen  and  ladies  who  play  six  characters  at  a 
time,  or  even  than  the  prince  of  buftbons  and  imitators, 
Mr.  Mathews  himself.  We  have  no  doubt  the  whole 
town  will  flock  to  see  him,  and  that  we  shall  observe, 
soon  after  his  arrival,  a  great  improvement  in  the  taste 
of  the  people,  as  well  as  in  our  theatrical  exhibitions, 
which  may  borrow  a  few  hints  from  him  with  great 
advantage. 

There  are  various  branches  of  domestic  industry 
cultivated  by  the  young  ladies  of  New  York,  the  prin- 
cipal of  which  is  the  spinning  of  street-yarn,  which 
they  generally  practise  about  four  hours  a  day.  Hence 
they  are  technically  termed  spinsters.  But  the  great 
branch  of  domestic  industry  among  the  men  is  the 
trade  in  politics,  in  which  vast  numbers  are  engaged, 
some  at  stated  seasons,  others  all  the  year  round.  Of 
the  arts  and  mysteries  of  this  business  we  profess  to 
know  nothing;  but  we  believe,  from  the  best  infor- 
mation, that  the  whole  secret  consists  in  a  certain 
opportune  turning  of  the  coat,  which  ought  always  to 
have  two  sides,  one  the  exact  contrast  to  the  other  in 
colour  and  texture.  By  the  aid  of  this  sort  of  harle- 
quin jacket,  a  dexterous  trader  in  politics  can,  if  he 
possesses  the  ordinary  instinct  of  a  rat,  always  keep 
a  strong  house  over  his  head,  a  tight  vessel  under 
him,  and  be  always  in  the  right,  that  is  to  say,  upon 


THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  73 

the  strongest  side,  which,  according  to  fundamental 
principles,  must  be  ever  in  the  right.  Some  intolerant 
persons  take  upon  themselves  to  denounce  such  ma- 
noeuvring of  the  outward  garment  as  unprincipled  and 
disgraceful ;  but  for  our  parts  we  hold  that,  necessitas 
noil  hahet  legem  —  and  it  is  within  the  sphere  of  our 
knowledge,  that  no  inconsiderable  portion  of  this 
abused  class  of  people,  if  they  did  not  turn  their 
coats  pretty  often,  would  very  soon  have  no  coats  to 
turn. 

On  the  other  occupations  or  mysteries,  such  as 
spending  a  great  deal  of  money  without  having  any, 
and  running  in  debt  without  possessing  any  credit, 
our  limits  will  not  allow  us  to  dilate  so  copiously  as 
we  could  wish.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  New  York  is  in 
this  respect  by  no  means  behindhand  with  its  neigh- 
bours, inasmuch  as  it  is  not  uncommon  to  see  people 
riding  in  splendid  carriages,  living  in  splendid  houses, 
and  owning  a  whole  street,  who,  when  they  come  to 
settle  with  death  and  their  other  creditors,  pay  the  for- 
mer and  that  is  all.  For  the  benefit  of  all  fashionable 
tourists,  we  would  wish  to  enter  upon  a  full  develop- 
ment of  this  the  most  valuable  secret  of  the  whole  art 
of  living,  which  may  possibly  one  day  stand  them  in 
stead.  But  it  would  require  volumes  of  illustrations, 
and  a  minuteness  of  detail  irreconcilable  with  the 
plan  of  this  work.  And  even  then  it  is  doubtful 
whether  the  tourist  would  be  able  to  put  the  system  in 
practice,  since  many  are  of  opinion  that  nothing  but 
a  regular  apprenticeship  in  the  arts  of  stock-jobbing, 
stock-companies,  hypothecation,  and  blowing  bubbles 
and  bursting  them,  as  practised  par  excellence  in  the 
heau  monde  of  New  York,  will  qualify  a  person  for 


74  THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

living  upon  nothing,  unless  indeed  he  have  an  uncom- 
mon natural  genius. 

Among  the  many  modes  of  raising  the  wind  in 
New  York,  that  of  buying  lottery-tickets  is  one  of  the 
most  effective.  It  is  amazing  what  a  number  of 
prizes  every  lottery-office-keeper  has  sold  either  in 
whole  or  in  shares,  and,  what  is  yet  more  extraordi- 
nary as  well  as  altogether  out  of  fashion,  paid  them 
too,  if  you  will  take  his  word  for  it.  The  whole  in- 
sides  and  a  large  portion  of  the  outsides  of  many 
houses  in  Broadway  are  covered  with  statements  of 
the  vast  sums  thus  liberally  dispensed  to  the  public ; 
and,  what  is  very  remarkable,  among  all  those  who 
have  made  their  fortunes  in  this  pursuit,  we  never 
heard  of  a  single  person  who  was  brought  to  ruin  by 
it!  People  need  have  no  scruples  of  conscience  about 
trying  their  luck  in  this  way,  since,  if  it  were  really 
gambling,  the  legislature  of  New  York  state,  which  is 
a  great  enemy  to  horse-racing,  (save  in  one  consecra- 
ted spot),  *  and  all  other  kinds  of  gambling,  would 
certainly  never  have  authorized  a  series  of  lotteries,  of 
which  some  people  may  recollect  the  beginning,  but 
nobody  can  predict  the  end.  Nothing  can  exceed  the 
philanthropic  earnestness  with  which  the  dispensers 
of  fortune's  favours,  in  the  lotteries,  strive  to  allure 
the  ignorant  and  obtuse,  who  are  not  awake  to  the 
certainty  of  making  a  fortune  after  this  fashion,  into 
a  habit  of  depending  on  the  blind  goddess,  instead  of 
always  stupidly  relying  upon  the  labour  of  their 
hands  and  the  sweat  of  their  brows.  Nor  ought  the 
unwearied  pains  of  these  liberal-hearted  persons,  to 
coax  them  into  parting  with  all  they  have,  in  the 
[*  The  Union  Course,  Long  Island.] 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  75 

moral  certainty  of  getting  back  a  hundred,  yea  a 
thousand,  fold,  pass  without  due  commendation  ;  for 
certain  it  is,  that  if  any  body  in  New  York  is  poor, 
it  must  be  owing  to  his  own  obstinate  stupidity  in 
refusing  these  disinterested  invitations.  N.  B.  There 
are  very  severe  laws  against  gambling  in  New  York. 

There  are  many  other  ways  of  living  and  getting 
money  here,  and  spending  it  too,  which  it  is  not  ne- 
cessary to  enumerate.  We  have  premised  sufficient 
to  enable  the  enlightened  tourist,  (who,  peradventure, 
may  have  been  left  destitute  in  a  strange  place  by 
a  run  at  cards,  a  failure  of  remittances,  or  any  other 
untoward  accident),  to  retrieve  his  fortune,  if  he  pos- 
sesses an  ordinary  degree  of  intrepidity  and  enter- 
prise. A  complete  knowledge  of  the  world  is  the 
first  requisite  for  living  in  the  world,  and  the  first  step 
to  the  attainment  of  this  is  to  know  the  difference 
between  catching  and  being  caught,  as  aptly  exempli- 
fied in  the  fable  of  the  fox  and  the  oyster. 

Once  upon  a  time  —  it  was  long  before  the  foxes 
had  their  speech  taken  from  them  lest  they  should  get 
the  better  of  man  —  as  Reynard  was  fishing  for  oys- 
I  ters  with  his  tail,  he  had  the  good-luck  to  put  the  end 
of  it  into  the  jaws  of  a  fine  Blue-Pointer  that  lay  gap- 
ing with  his  mouth  wide  open,  by  reason  of  his  hav- 
ing drank  too  much  salt-water  at  dinner.  "  Ah  ha  I  " 
cried  the  oyster,  shutting  his  mouth  as  quickly  as 
his  corpulent  belly  would  permit  —  "  Ah  ha  I,  have  I 
caught  you  at  last !  "  Reynard,  tickled  to  death  at 
this  wise  exclamation,  forthwith  set  off  full-tilt  for  his 
hole,  the  oyster  holding  on  with  all  his  might,  though 
he  got  most  bitterly  bethumped  against  the  rocks, 
and   exclaiming  all   the  while,  "  Ah   ha !  my   honest 


76  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

friend,  don't  think  to  escape  me  —  I've  got  you  safe 
enough  —  ah  ha!"  All  which  he  uttered  without 
opening  his  mouth,  as  was  the  manner  of  speaking  in 
those  days.  Reynard,  who  had  welhiigh  killed  him- 
self with  laughing,  at  length  came  safe  to  his  lodging 
with  the  clumsy  oyster  still  fast  to  his  tail.  After 
taking  a  little  breath,  he  addressed  it  thus :  "  Why, 
thou  aquatic  snail  —  thou  nondescript  among  ani- 
mals, that  art  neither  fish,  flesh,  nor  fowl  —  hadst 
thou  but  one  single  particle  of  brains  in  all  that  fat 
carcass  of  thine,  I  would  argue  the  matter  with  thee. 
As  it  is,  I  will  soon  teach  thee  the  difference  between 
catching  and  being  caught."  So  saying,  he  broke 
the  shell  of  the  honest  oyster  with  a  stone,  and  swal- 
lowed the  contents  with  great  satisfaction. 

Having  seen  everything  worth  seeing,  and  eaten  of 
everything  worth  eating,  in  New  York,  the  traveller 
may  begin  to  prepare  for  the  ineffable  delights  of  the 
Springs.  After  the  month  of  April,  oysters  become 
unlawful;  and  canvas-backs  are  out  of  season.  There 
is  then  nothing  to  detain  the  inquisitive  tourist,  and 
there  are  many  things  that  render  his  speedy  depar- 
ture highly  expedient.  As  Caesar  was  cautioned  by 
the  seer,  to  beware  the  Ides  of  March,  so  do  we,  in  like 
manner,  seriously  and  vehemently  caution  the  tourist 
to  beware  of  the  first  of  May,  in  other  countries  and 
places  the  season  of  May-poles,  rural  dances,  and 
rustic  loves ;  but,  in  New  York,  the  period  in  which  a 
great  portion  of  the  inhabitants  seem  to  be  enjoying 
a  game  at  puss-in-a-corner.  Woe  be  to  the  traveller 
who  happens  to  sojourn  in  a  house  where  this  game 
is  going  on,  for  he  will  find  no  rest  to  the  soles  of  his 
feet.     His  chair  and  his  bed,  his  carpet  and  his  joint- 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  77 

stool,  will  be  taken  from  under  him,  and  he  will  be 
left  alone  as  it  were  like  a  hermit  in  the  desert.  Peo- 
ple, as  well  as  their  establishments,  seem  to  be  actu- 
ally deranged,  insomuch  that  the  prize-poet  whom  we 
have  quoted  before,  not  long  since  produced  the  fol- 
lowing impromptu  on  the  first  of  May : 

"  Sing,  heavenly  muse!  which  is  the  greatest  day, 
The  first  of  April,  or  the  first  of  INIay ; 
Or,  ye  who  moot  nice  points  in  learned  schools, 
Tell  us  which  breeds  the  greatest  crop  of  fools!  " 

For  a  more  particular  account  of  this  festival,  which 
especially  distinguishes  the  city  of  New  York  from  all 
others  in  the  known  world,  we  refer  our  readers  to  the 
following  letter.  There  is,  however,  some  reason  to 
surmise  that  it  prevailed  in  Herculaneum  and  Pom- 
peii, and  was  one  of  the  causes  which  brought  the 
vengeance  of  the  gods  on  those  unfortunate  cities. 

COLONEL  CULPEPER  TO  MAJOR  BRANDE. 

New  York,  May  2,  1827. 

My  DEAR  Major,  —  I  am  sorry  to  inform  you  that 
yesterday  morning  at  daylight,  or  a  little  before,  a 
large  portion  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  city  ran  mad, 
in  a  most  singular,  I  might  say,  original,  manner;  for 
I  don't  remember  to  have  seen  this  particular  form  of 
insanity  described  in  any  work  on  the  subject.  This 
infirmity  is  peculiar  to  this  precise  season  of  the  year, 
and  generally  manifests  itself,  a  day  or  two  previous 
io  the  crisis,  in  a  perpetual  fidgeting  about  the  house, 
rummaging  up  of  every  thing,  putting  every  thing  out 
of  place,  and  making  a  most  ostentatious  display  of 
crockery  and  tin-ware.  In  proof  of  its  not  having  any 
affinity  to  hydrophobia,  it  is  sufficient  to  observe  that 


78  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

the  disease  invariably  manifests  itself  in  a  vehement 
disposition  to  scrubbing  floors,  washing  windows, 
and  dabbling  in  water  in  all  possible  ways.  The 
great  and  decisive  phenomenon,  and  one  which  is 
always  followed  by  an  almost  instantaneous  remission 
of  the  disorder,  is  scrambling  out  of  one  house  as  fast 
as  you  can,  and  getting  into  another  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble. But,  as  I  consider  this  as  one  of  the  most  curi- 
ous cases  that  ever  came  under  my  observation,  I  will 
give  you  a  particular  account  of  every  prominent 
symptom  accompanying  it,  with  a  request  you  will 
communicate  the  whole  to  Dr.  Brady,  for  his  decision 
on  the  matter. 

It  being  a  fine,  bright,  mild  morning,  I  got  up  early, 
to  take  a  walk  on  the  Battery,  the  most  glorious 
place  for  a  morning  or  evening  stroll  to  be  found  in 
the  world.  It  is  almost  worth  coming  here,  to  inhale 
the  exquisite  coolness  of  the  saline  air,  and  watch  the 
ever-moving  scenery  of  little  white  sails,  majestic  dis- 
plays of  snowy  canvas  that  look  like  fleecy  clouds 
against  the  hills  of  Jersey  and  Staten  Island,  and  all 
the  life  of  nature,  connected  with  her  beautiful  repose 
on  the  bosom  of  the  expansive  bay.  Coming  down 
into  the  entry,  I  found  it  cluttered  up  with  a  specimen 
of  almost  every  thing  that  goes  to  the  composition  of 
house-keeping,  and  three  or  four  sturdy  fellows  with 
hand-barrows,  on  which  they  were  piling  everything 
they  could  lay  hold  of.  I  asked  what  the  matter  was, 
but  all  I  could  get  out  of  them  was,  "  First  of  May, 
sir  —  please  to  stand  out  of  the  way  —  first  of  May, 
sir."  So  I  passed  on  into  the  street,  where  I  ran  the 
gauntlet,  among  looking-glasses,  old  pictures,  baskets 
of  crockery,  and  things  in  general.      The  sidewalks 


THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  79 

were  infested  with  processions  of  this  sort,  and  in  the 
middle  of  the  streets  were  innumerable  carts  loaded 
with  a  general  jail-delivery  of  all  the  trumpery  that 
the  carelessness  of  servants  had  broken,  or  the  econ- 
omy of  the  housewives  preserved.  If  I  stopped  to 
contemplate  this  inexplicable  scene,  some  male  mon- 
ster was  sure  to  bounce  against  me  out  of  a  street- 
door,  with  a  feather-bed,  or  assault  me  in  the  breach 
with  the  corner  of  a  looking-glass,  or  some  projection 
still  more  belligerent ;  while  all  the  apology  I  got  was, 
"First  of  May  — take  care,  sir  — first  of  May."  At 
one  time  I  was  beleaguered  between  two  hand-barrows, 
coming  different  ways,  and  giving  each  other  just 
enough  room  to  squeeze  me  half  to  death  :  at  another, 
I  was  run  foul  of  by  a  basket  of  crockery  or  cut  glass, 
with  a  woman  under  it,  to  the  imminent  risk  of  de- 
molishing these  precious  articles  so  dear  to  the  heart 
of  the  sex,  and  got  not  only  sour  looks  but  hard  words, 
while  my  bones  were. aching  with  bumps  and  bruises. 
Finding  there  was  no  peace  in  Israel,  I  determined 
to  get  home  without  further  delay,  and  ensconce  my- 
self snugiy,  until  this  fearful  commotion  of  the  house- 
hold gods  and  their  paraphernalia  had  died  away. 
But  I  forgot  that,  "  returning  were  as  tedious  as  go 
o'er."  There  was  not  an  old  chair,  or  a  looking-glass, 
or  a  picture,  or  any  article  cursed  with  sharp  angles, 
that  did  not  appear  to  have  an  irresistible  attraction 
towards  some  part  of  my  body,  especially  that  portion 
which  oftenest  comes  in  contact  with  other  bodies. 
In  attempting  to  steer  clear  of  a  hand-barrow,  I  en- 
countered a  looking-glass,  which  the  lady  owner  was 
following  with  pious  care,  and  shattered  it  into  a 
thousand  pieces.     The  lady  fainted,  and,  in  my  zeal  to 


80  THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

apologize  to  and  assist  her,  I  unfortunately  grazed  a 
glass  lustre,  which  caught  in  my  button-hole,  and  drew 
after  it  a  little  French  woman,  who  luckily  lighted  on 
a  feather-bed  which  an  Irishman  had  set  down,  to  rest 
himself.  "  Mon  Dieu!"  cried  the  little  woman; 
"  Jasus ! "  exclaimed  the  Irishman ;  the  lady  of  tlie 
looking-glass  wept ;  the  little  demoiselle  laughed  ;  the 
Irishman  stoje  a  kiss  of  her;  and  the  valiant  Colonel 
Culpeper  made  a  masterly  retreat  into  the  entry  of 
his  domicile,  where  by  the  same  token  he  ran  full 
against  my  landlady,  (who,  in  a  paroxysm  of  the  dis- 
order, was  sallying  forth  with  both  hands  full),  and 
demolished  her  spectacles  irretrievably. 

Finding  myself  thus  environed  with  perils  on  all 
sides,  I  retreated  to  my  bedchamber,  but  here  I  found 
the  madness  raging  with  equal  violence.  A  serving- 
maid  was  pulling  up  the  carpet,  and  pulling  down  the 
curtains,  and  making  the  dust  fly  in  all  directions, 
with  a  feverish  activity  tliat  could  only  have  been  pro- 
duced by  a  degree  of  excitement  altogether  unnatural. 
There  was  no  living  here,  so  I  retreated  to  the  dining- 
room,  where  every  thing  was  out  of  its  place,  and  the 
dust  thicker  than  in  the  bedroom.  Mops  were  going 
in  one  corner,  brooms  flourishing  in  another,  side- 
boards standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  dining- 
tables  flapping  their  wings,  as  if  partaking  in  that 
irresistible  propensity  to  motion  which  seemed  to  per- 
vade everything  animate  and  inanimate. 

"  Pray,  sir,"  said  I  to  a  grave  old  gentleman  who 
sat  reading  a  newspaper,  apparently  unmoved  amid 
the  general  confusion,  — "  Pray,  sir,  can  you  tell  me 
what  all  this  confusion  means?"  "  O,  it's  only  the 
first  of  May,"  he  replied,  without  taking  his  eyes  off 


THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS.  81 

the  newspaper.  Alas!  he,  too,  is  mad,  thought  I. 
But  I'll  try  him  again. 

"  The  first  of  May  —  what  of  the  first  of  May  ?  " 

"  'Tis  moving-time." 

"  Moving-time !  what  is  that  ?  " 

"  The  time  when  every  body  moves." 

"  But,  why  does  every  body  move  just  at  this  time  ?  " 

"  I  can't  tell,  except  it  be  because  it  is  the  first  of 
May.  But,"  added  he,  looking  up  at  last  with  a  droll 
smile,  "  you  seem  to  be  a  stranger,  and  perhaps  don't 
know  that  the  first  of  May  is  the  day,  the  bane  of  the 
year,  on  which  the  good  people  of  this  town  have,  one 
and  all,  agreed  to  play  at  the  game  of  move-all.  They 
are  now  at  it,  hammer  and  tongs.  To-morrow,  things 
will  be  quiet,  and  we  shall  be  settled  in  a  difierent 
part  of  the  street." 

"  O,  then  the  people  are  not  mad,"  said  I. 

"  By  no  means :  they  are  only  complying  with  an 
old  custom." 

'"Tis  an  odd  custom." 

"  It  is  so,  but  not  more  odd  than  many  others  in  all 
parts  of  the  world." 

"  Will  you  be  so  obliging  as  to  tell  me  its  origin, 
and  the  reason  for  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  as  to  the  reason,  half  the  old  customs  we 
blindly  follow  are  just  as  difficult  to  account  for,  and 
apparently  as  little  founded  in  design  as  this.  It 
would  be  too  much  to  make  people  give  reasons  for 
every  thing  they  do.  This  custom  of  moving  in  a 
body  on  May-day  is  said,  however,  to  have  originated 
at  a  very  early  period  in  the  history  of  New  York, 
when  there  were  but  two  houses  in  it.  The  tenants 
of  these,  taking  it  into  their  heads  to  change  their 

6 


82  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

domiciles,  and  having  no  others  to  remove  to,  agreed  to 
start  fair  at  one  and  the  same  time  with  bag  and  bag- 
gage, and  thus  step  into  each  other's  shoes.  They 
did  so,  and  the  arrangement  was  found  so  convenient 
that  it  has  passed  into  general  practice  ever  since." 

"  And  so  the  good  people  take  it  for  granted,  that  a 
custom  which  necessity  forced  upon  them  when  there 
were  but  two  houses  in  the  city  is  calculated  for  a 
city  with  thirty  thousand.  A  capital  pedigree  for  an 
old  custom." 

"'Tis  as  good  as  one  half  the  usages  of  the  world 
can  boast  of,"  replied  the  philosopher,  and  resumed 
his  studies.  "  But,"  said  I,  "  how  can  you  possibly 
read  in  all  this  hubbub  ? "  "  O,"  replied  he,  "  I've 
moved  every  May-day  for  the  last  forty  years." 

Having  ascertained  the  location  of  the  house  into 
which  the  family  was  moving,  I  made  for  it  with  all 
convenient  speed,  hoping  to  find  at  least  an  asylum 
for  my  wearied  and  bruised  body.  But  I  fell  out  of 
the  frying-pan  into  the  fire.  The  spirit  of  moving 
was  here  more  rampant  than  at  my  other  home,  and, 
between  moving  in  and  moving  out,  there  was  no 
chance  of  escaping  a  jostle  or  a  jog  from  some  mov- 
ing movable,  on  its  arrival  or  departure.  Despairing 
of  a  resting-place  here,  I  determined  to  drop  in  upon 
an  old  friend ;  and  proceeded  to  his  house.  But  he, 
too,  was  moving.  From  thence  I  went  to  a  hotel,  in 
hopes  of  a  quiet  hour  in  the  reading-room ;  but  the 
hotel  was  moving  too.  I  jumped  into  a  hack,  bidding 
the  man  drive  out  of  town  as  fast  as  possible.  "  I'm 
moving  a  family,  sir,  and  can't  serve  you,"  cried  he ; 
and  just  then  somebody  thrust  the  corner  of  a  look- 
ing-glass into  my  side,  and  almost  broke  one  of  my 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  83 

ribs.  At  this  critical  moment,  seeing  the  door  of  a 
church  invitingly  open,  1  sought  refuge  in  its  peaceful 
aisles.  But  alas !  major,  every  thing  was  in  confusion 
here  ;  the  floors  in  a  puddle,  the  pews  wet,  the  prayer- 
books  piled  in  heaps,  and  women  splashing  the  win- 
dows furiously  with  dippers  of  water.  "Zounds!" 
said  I  to  one  of  them,  "  are  you  moving  too  ?  ",  and, 
without  waiting  for  an  answer,  walked  into  the  church- 
yard, in  hopes  I  should  find  the  tenants  quiet  there. 
Here  I  sauntered  about,  reading  the  records  of  mor- 
tality, and  moralizing  on  the  contrast  between  the 
ever-moving  scene  without  and  the  undisturbed  re- 
pose within.  There  was  but  a  wooden  fence  to  mark 
the  separation  between  the  region  of  life  and  that  of 
death.  In  a  few  minutes  my  perturbation  subsided, 
and  the  little  rubs  and  vexations  I  had  undergone 
during  the  day  faded  into  insignificance  before  the 
solemn  meditations  on  that  everlasting  remove  to 
which  we  all  are  destined.  I  went  home,  dined  at  my 
old  house,  slept  in  my  new  lodgings,  on  a  wet  floor, 
and  caught  a  rheumatism  in  my  left  shoulder. 

Adieu,  major.  If  you  ever  visit  New  York,  beware 
of  the  first  of  May. 

From  this  letter,  which  we  assure  our  readers  is  of 
the  first  authority,  it  will  sufficiently  appear  that  the 
elegant  tourist  should  so  arrange  his  pleasures,  (for 
business  he  ought  to  have  none),  as  either  to  arrive  at 
New  York  after,  or  quit  it  before,  the  first  day  of 
May.  Previous  to  his  departure,  it  will  be  proper  for 
the  traveller,  if  a  gentleman,  to  furnish  himself  with 
the  following  indispensable  conveniences:  — 

The  New  Mirror  for  Travellers,  and  Guide  to  the 


84  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

Springs.  N.  B.  Be  careful  to  ask  for  the  New 
Mirror. 

Two  shirts.  N.  B.  Dickies,  or  collars,  with  ruffles, 
will  answer. 

Plenty  of  cravats,  which  are  the  best  apologies  for 
shirts  in  the  world,  except  ruffles. 

Six  coats,  including  a  surtout  and  box-coat.  N.  B. 
If  you  can't  afford  to  pay  for  these,  the  tailor  must 
suffer  —  there  is  no  help  for  him. 

Forty  pairs  of  pantaloons,  of  all  sorts.  Ditto, 
waistcoats. 

Twelve  pairs  of  white  kid-gloves. 

Twelve  pairs  of  boots.  N.  B.  If  you  wear  boots 
altogether,  stockings  are  unnecessary,  except  at  balls 
—  economy  is  a  blessed  thing. 

Twelve  tooth-brushes. 

Twelve  hair-brushes. 

Six  clothes-brushes  —  one  for  each  coat. 

A  percussion-gun  and  a  pointer-dog.  N.  B.  No 
matter  whether  you  are  a  sportsman  or  not  —  it  looks 
well. 

A  pair  of  pistols,  to  shoot  a  friend  with  now  and 
then. 

An  nmbrella,  which  you  can  borrow  of  a  friend  and 
forget  to  return. 

A  portmanteau  without  any  name  or  initials,  so 
that  if  you  should  happen  to  take  another  man's,  it 
may  pass  for  a  mistake.  N.  B.  Never  make  such  mis- 
takes, unless  there  is  some  special  reason  for  it. 

A  pocket-book,  well  fflled  with  bank-notes.  If  you 
can't  raise  the  wind  with  the  genuine,  you  may  buy 
a  few  counterfeits,  cheap.  Any  money  is  good 
enough  for  travelling,  and  if  one  won't  take  it  another 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS.  85 

will.  Don't  be  discouraged  at  one  refusal  —  try  it 
again.  If  you  are  well-dressed,  and  have  a  gun  and 
a  pointer-dog,  no  one  will  suspect  you.  N.  B.  There 
are  no  police-officers  in  the  steam-boats. 

There  is  one  class  of  travellers  deserving  a  whole 
book  by  thokfiselves,  could  we  afford  to  write  one  for 
their  especial  benefit.  We  mean  the  gentlemen  who, 
as  the  African  negro  said,  "  walk  big  way  —  write  big 
book ; "  tourists  by  profession,  who  explore  this  coun- 
try for  the  pleasure  of  their  readers  and  their  own 
profit,  and  travel  at  the  expense  of  one  people's  repu- 
tation and  of  another's  pockets ;  who  pay  for  a  dinner 
by  libelling  their  entertainer,  and  for  their  passage  in 
a  steam-boat  by  retailing  the  information  of  the  stew- 
ard or  coxswain ;  to  whom  the  sight  of  a  porpoise  at 
sea  affords  matter  for  profitable  speculation ;  who 
make  more  out  of  a  flying-fish  than  a  market-woman 
does  out  of  a  sheep's-head  ;  and  dispose  of  a  tolerable 
storm  at  the  price  of  a  week's  board.  These  are  the 
travellers  for  our  money,  being  the  only  ones  on  record, 
except  the  pedlers,  who  unite  the  profits  of  business 
with  the  pleasures  of  travelling  —  a  consummation 
which  authors  have  laboured  at  in  vain  until  the  pres- 
ent happy  age  of  improvements,  when  sentimental 
young  ladies  wear  spatterdashes  and  stout  young 
gentlemen  white  kid-gloves,  and  when  an  opera- 
singer  receives  a  higher  salary  than  an  archbishop 
and  travels  about  with  letters  of  introduction  from 
kings  I 

Of  all  countries  in  the  world.  Old  England,  our 
kind,  gentle,  considerate  old  mamma,  sends  forth  the 
largest  portion   of  this   species   of  literary  "  riders^^ 


86  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

who  sweep  up  the  materials  for  a  book  by  the  road- 
side. They  are  held  of  so  much  consequence  as  to 
be  patronized  by  the  government,  which  expends  large 
sums  in  sending  them  to  the  North  Pole,  only  to  tell 
us,  in  a  "  big  book,"  how  cold  it  is  there ;  or  to  Africa, 
to  distribute  glass  beads,  and  repeat  over  and  over  the 
same  things,  through  a  score  of  huge  quartos.  With 
these  we  do  not  concern  ourselves ;  but,  inasmuch  as 
it  hath  been  alleged,  however  unjustly,  that  those  who 
have  from  time  to  time  honoured  this  country  with 
their  notice  have  been  guilty  of  divers  sins  of  igno- 
rance, prejudice,  and  malignity,  we  here  offer  them  a 
compendium  of  regulations,  by  the  due  observance  of 
which  they  may  in  future  avoid  these  offences,  and 
construct  a  "big  book"  which  shall  give  universal 
satisfaction. 

Rules  for  gentlemen  who  "walk  big  way  —  make 
bis:  book." 

Never  fail  to  seize  every  opportunity  to  lament,  with 
tears  in  your  eyes,  the  deplorable  state  of  religion 
among  "  these  republicans."  People  will  take  it  for 
granted  you  are  a  very  pious  man. 

Never  lose  an  opportunity  of  canting  about  the  sad 
state  of  morals  among  these  republicans.  People  will 
give  you  credit  for  being  very  moral  yourself. 

Whenever  you  have  occasion  to  mention  the  fourth 
of  July,  the  birthday  of  Washington,  or  any  other 
great  national  anniversary,  don't  forget  to  adduce  it 
as  proof  of  the  bitter  hostility  felt  by  these  republi- 
cans towards  the  English,  and  to  lament  these 
practices,  as  tending  to  keep  up  the  memory  of  the 
Revolution,  as  well  as  to  foster  national  antipathies. 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  87 

Be  very  particular  in  noticing  stage-drivers,  waiters, 
tavern-keepers,  and  persons  of  the  like  importance, 
who,  as  it  were,  represent  the  character  of  the  people. 
Whenever  you  want  any  profound  information,  always 
apply  to  them :  —  they  are  the  best  authority  you  can 
have. 

If  you  happen  to  fall  in  company  with  a  public 
man  in  the  stage  or  steam-boat,  take  the  first  oppor- 
tunity of  pumping  the  driver  or  waiter.  These  fel- 
lows know  every  thing,  and  can  tell  you  all  the  lies 
that  have  ever  been  uttered  against  him. 

If  you  dine  with  a  hospitable  gentleman,  don't  fail 
to  repay  him  by  dishing  up  himself,  his  wife,  daugh- 
ters, and  dinner,  in  your  book.  If  the  little  boys 
don't  behave  respectfully  towards  you,  and  sneak  into 
a  corner  with  their  fingers  in  their  mouths,  cut  them 
up  handsomely  —  father,  mother,  and  all.  Be  sure 
you  give  their  names,*  at  full  length ;  be  particular  in 
noting  every  dish  on  the  table  ;  and  don't  forget  pump- 
ing the  waiter. 

Tell  all  the  old  stories  which  the  Yankees  repeat  of 
their  Southern  and  Western  neighbours,  and  which  the 
latter  have  retorted  upon  them.  Be  sure  not  to  for- 
get the  gouging  of  the  judge,  the  roasting  of  the 
negro,  the  wooden  nutmegs,  the  indigo  coal ;  and, 
above  all,  the  excellent  story  of  the  wooden  bowls. 
Never  inquire  whether  they  are  true  or  not ;  they  will 
make  John  Bull  twice  as  happy  as  he  is  at  present. 

Never  write  a  line  without  having  the  fear  of  the 
reviewers  before  your  eyes,  and  remember  how  poor 
Miss  Wright  got  abused  for  praising  these  republicans 
and  sinners. 

Never  be  deterred  from  telling  a  story  to  the  dis- 


»»  THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

credit  of  any  people,  especially  republicans,  on  the 
score  of  its  improbability.  John  Bull,  for  whom  you 
write,  will  swallow  any  thing,  from  a  pot  of  beer  to  a 
melo-drama.  He  is  even  a  believer  in  his  own  free- 
dom. 

Never  be  deterred  from  telling  a  story  on  account 
of  its  having  been  told,  over  and  over  again,  by  every 
traveller  since  the  discovery  of  America  by  the  literati 
of  Europe.  If  the  reader  has  seen  it  before,  it  is  only 
meeting  an  old  friend ;  if  he  has  not,  it  is  making  a 
new  acquaintance.  But  be  sure  you  don't  forget  to 
say  that  you  saw  every  thing  you  describe.  To  quote 
from  another  is  to  give  him  all  the  credit,  and  is 
almost  as  bad  as  robbing  your  own  house.  There 
is  nothing  makes  a  lie  look  so  much  like  truth  as  fre- 
quent repetition.  If  you  know  it  to  be  false,  don't 
let  that  deter  you ;  for,  as  you  did  not  invent  it  your- 
self, you  cannot  be  blamed. 

Abuse  all  the  women  in  mass,  out  of  compliment 
to  your  own  countrywomen.  The  days  of  chivalry 
are  past,  and  more  honour  comes  of  attacking  than 
defending  ladies  in  the  present  age  of  public  improve- 
ments. Besides,  all  the  world  loves  scandal,  and  a 
book  filled  with  the  praises  of  one  nation  is  an  insult 
to  the  rest  of  the  world. 

If  the  stage  breaks  down  with  you,  give  the  roads 
no  quarter. 

If  you  get  an  indifferent  breakfast  at  an  inn,  cut  up 
the  whole  town  where  the  enormity  was  encountered, 
pretty  handsomely ;  if  a  bad  dinner,  deprive  the  whole 
nation  of  its  morals;  if  a  sorry  supper,  take  away 
the  reputation  of  the  landlady,  the  cook,  and  the  land- 
lady's daughters  without  ceremony.     Item,  if  they  put 


THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  89 

you  to  sleep  in  a  two-bedded  room,  although  the  other 
bed  be  empty,  it  is  sufficient  provocation  to  set  them 
all  down  for  infidels,  thereby  proving  yourself  a  zeal- 
ous Christian. 

Never  read  any  book  written  by  natives  of  the 
country  you  mean  to  describe.  They  are  always  par- 
tial ;  and,  besides,  a  knowledge  of  the  truth  fetters  the 
imagination,  and  circumscribes  invention.  It  is  fatal 
to  the  composition  of  a  romance. 

Never  suffer  the  hospitalities  and  kindness  of  these 
republicans  to  conciliate  you,  except  just  while  you 
are  enjoying  them.  You  may  eat  their  dinners  and 
receive  their  attentions ;  but  never  forget,  that  if  you 
praise  the  Yankees  John  Bull  will  condemn  your 
book,  and  that  charity  begins  at  home.  The  first 
duty  of  a  literary  traveller  is  to  make  a  book  that  will 
sell ;  the  rest  is  between  him  and  his  conscience,  and 
is  nobody's  business. 

Never  mind  what  these  republicans  say  of  you  or 
your  book.  You  never  mean  to  come  among  them 
again ;  or,  if  you  do,  you  can  come  under  a  difTerent 
name.  Let  them  abuse  you  as  much  as  they  please. 
"  Who  reads  an  American  book  ?  "  No  Englishman 
certainly,  except  with  a  view  of  borrowing  its  contents 
without  giving  the  author  credit  for  them.  Besides, 
every  true-born  Englishman  knows  that  the  shortest 
way  of  elevating  his  own  country  is  to  depress  all 
others  as  much  as  possible. 

Never  fail  to  find  fault  with  everything,  and  grum- 
ble without  ceasing.  Else  people  won't  know  you  for 
an  Englishman. 

Never  mind  your  geography,  as  you  are  address- 
ing yourself  to  people  who  don't  know  a  wild  turkey 


90  THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

from  Turkey  in  Europe.  Your  book  will  sell  just  as 
well,  if  you  place  New  York  on  the  Mississippi,  and 
New  Orleans  on  the  Hudson.  You  will  be  kept  in 
countenance  by  a  certain  British  secretary  of  foreign 
affairs,  who  is  said  to  have  pronounced  the  right  to 
navigate  the  St.  Lawrence  inadmissible  to  the  United 
States,  because  it  would  give  them  a  direct  route  to 
the  Pacific. 

You  need  not  make  any  special  inquiries  into  the 
state  of  morals,  because  every  body  knows  that  repub- 
licans have  no  morality ;  nor  of  religion,  because  every 
body  knows  they  tolerate  all  religions,  and  of  course 
can  have  none  ;  nor  of  manners,  because,  as  there  is 
no  distinction  of  ranks  recognized  in  their  constitution, 
it  is  clear  they  must  all  be  blackguards.  The  person 
most  completely  qualified  of  any  we  ever  met  with  for 
a  traveller  was  a  worthy  Englishman,  who,  being  very 
near-sighted,  and  hard  of  hearing,  was  not  led  astray 
by  the  villany  of  his  five  senses  ;  and,  curiously  enough, 
his  book  contained  quite  as  much  truth  as  those  of 
his  more  fortunate  contemporaries  who  were  embar- 
rassed by  eyes  and  ears. 

If  the  tourist  belongs  to  the  order  of  the  petticoat, 
the  following  articles  are  of  the  first  necessity  in  a 
visit  to  the  Springs. 

Six  fashionable  hats,  in  bandboxes.  N.  B.  The 
steam-boats  are  pretty  capacious,  and  from  Albany  to 
the  Springs  you  can  hire  an  extra. 

Two  lace  veils  to  hide  blushes.  If  you  never  blush, 
there  is  no  harm  done. 

An  indispensable  for  miscellaneous  matters.  Be- 
ware of  pockets  and  pick-pockets. 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  91 

Two  trunks  of  barege?,  gros  de  Naples,  and  silks. 

Two  trunks  of  miscellaneous  finery. 

A  dressing-case. 

One  large  trunk  containing  several  sets  of  curls 
well-baked,  prepared  by  Monsieur  INIanuel. 

The  last  Waverley. 

Plenty  of  airs. 

Ditto  of  graces. 

Six  beaux  to  amuse  you  on  the  journey.  N.  B.  A 
poodle  will  do  as  well. 

A  dozen  pairs  of  white  satin  shoes  to  ramble  about 
in  through  the  swamps  at  Saratoga  and  Ballston. 
Leather  smells  vilely,  and  prunello  is  quite  vulgar. 

Six  dozen  pairs  of  silk  hose,  the  thinnest  that  can 
be  had.  There  is  nothing  so  beautiful  as  flesh-colour 
with  open  clocks. 

A  travelling-chain,  the  largest  and  heaviest  that  can 
be  had,  to  wear  round  the  neck.  This  will  furnish 
the  beaux  with  a  hint  for  saying  clever  things  about 
chains,  darts,  &cc.  The  poodle  can  sometimes  play 
with  it. 

11^=^  There  is  no  occasion  for  a  pocket-book,  as  all 
is  paid  by  papa  (or  his  creditors),  and  young  ladies 
ought  never  to  know  any  thing  about  the  value  of 
money.  It  sophisticates  the  purity  of  their  unadul- 
terated sentiments. 

These  principal  requisites  being  procured,  you  take 
the  steam-boat  for  Albany.  If  you  are  in  a  great 
hurry,  or  not  afraid  of  being  drowned  in  going  ashore 
at  West  Point,  or  blown  up  by  the  way,  take  one  of 
the  fastest  boats  you  can  find.  But,  if  you  wish  to 
travel  pleasantly,  eat  your  meals  in  comfort,  associate 


92  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

with  genteel  company,  sleep  in  quiet,  and  wake  up 
alive,  our  advice  is  to  take  one  of  the  safety  barges, 
where  all  these  advantages  are  combined.  It  grieves 
us  to  the  soul  to  see  these  sumptuous  aquatic  palaces, 
which  constitute  the  very  perfection  of  all  earthly 
locomotion,  almost  deserted  by  the  ill-advised  travel- 
ler—  and  for  what?  That  he  may  get  to  Albany  a 
few  hours  sooner:  as  if  it  were  not  the  distinguishing 
characteristic  of  a  well-bred  man  of  pleasure  to  have 
more  time  on  his  hands  than  he  knows  what  to  do 
with.  Let  merchants,  and  tradesmen,  and  brokers, 
and  handicraft  people,  and  all  those  condemned  to 
daily  labour,  to  whom  time  is  as  money,  patronize  the 
swift  boats  ;  and  let  those  who  are  running  away  from 
justice  affect  them  ;  but,  for  the  man  of  leisure,  whose 
sole  business  is  to  kill  time  pleasantly,  enjoy  himself 
at  his  ease,  and  dine  free  from  the  infamous  proximity 
of  hungry  rogues  who  devour  with  their  eyes  what 
they  can't  reach  with  their  hands,  the  safety  barges 
are  preferable  even  to  the  chariot  of  the  sun.  N.  B. 
We  dont  mean  to  discourage  people  who  may  cher- 
ish a  harmless  propensity  to  being  blown  up.  Every 
one  to  his  taste. 

The  following  hints  will  be  found  serviceable  to  all 
travellers  in  steam-boats. 

In  the  miscellaneous  company  usually  found  in 
these  machines,  the  first  duty  of  a  man  is  to  take  care 
of  himself — to  get  the  best  seat  at  table,  the  best 
location  on  deck;  and,  when  these  are  obtained,  to 
keep  resolute  possession  in  spite  of  all  the  significant 
looks  of  the  ladies. 

If  your  heart  yearns  for  a  particularly  comfortable 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  93 

seat  which  is  occupied  by  a  lady,  all  you  have  to  do 
is  to  keep  your  eye  steadily  upon  it,  and,  the  moment 
she  gets  up,  don't  wait  to  see  if  she  is  going  to  return, 
but  take  possession  without  a  moment's  delay.  If 
she  comes  back  again,  be  sure  not  to  see  her. 

Keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  meals.  An  experienced 
traveller  can  always  tell  when  these  are  about  being 
served  up,  by  a  mysterious  movement  on  the  part  of 
the  ladies,  and  a  mysterious  agitation  among  the  gen- 
tlemen, who  may  be  seen  gradually  pressing  towards 
the  cabin  doors.  Whenever  you  observe  these  symp- 
toms, it  is  time  to  exert  yourself  by  pushing  through 
the  crowd  to  the  place  of  execution.  Never  mind 
[  the  sour  looks,  but  elbow  your  way  with  resolution 
and  perseverance,  remembering  that  a  man  can  eat 
but  so  many  meals  in  his  life,  and  that  the  loss  of  one 
can  never  be  retrieved. 

The  most  prudent  plan,  however,  is  that  generally 
pursued  by  your  knowing  English  travellers,  which  is 
as  follows :  As  soon  as  you  have  seen  your  baggage 
disposed  of,  and  before  the  waiters  have  had  time  to 
shut  the  cabin-doors,  preparatory  to  laying  the  tables, 
station  yourself  at  one  of  them,  in  a  proper  situation 
for  action.  On  the  inside  if  you  can,  for  there  you 
are  not  in  the  way  of  the  servants.  Resolutely  main- 
tain your  position  in  spite  of  the  looks  and  hints  of 
the  servants,  about  "  Gentlemen  in  the  way,"  and 
"  No  chance  to  set  the  tables."  You  can  be  readins: 
a  book  or  a  newspaper,  and  not  hear  them ;  or,  a  bet- 
ter way  is  to  pretend  to  be  asleep. 

Keep  a  wary  eye  for  a  favourite  dish,  and,  if  it 
happens  to  be  placed  at  a  distance  or  on  another  table, 
you  can  take  an  opportunity  to  look  hard  at  an  open 


94  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

window  as  if  there  was  too  much  air  for  you,  shrug 
your  shoulders,  and  move  opposite  the  dish  afore- 
said. 

The  moment  the  bell  rings,  fall  to :  you  need  not 
wait  for  the  rest  of  the  company  to  be  seated,  or 
mind  the  ladies,  for  there  is  no  time  to  be  lost  on 
these  occasions.  For  the  same  reason,  you  should 
keep  your  eyes  moving  about,  from  one  end  of  the 
table  to  the  other,  in  order  that  if  you  see  any  thing 
you  like  you  can  send  for  it  without  losing  time.  Call 
as  loudly  and  as  often  as  possible  for  the  waiter ;  the 
louder  you  call,  the  more  consequence  you  will  gain 
with  the  company.  If  he  don't  mind  you,  don't  hesi- 
tate to  snatch  whatever  he  has  got  in  his  hands,  if  you 
happen  to  want  it. 

Be  sure  to  have  as  many  different  things  on  your 
plate  at  one  time  as  it  will  hold,  and  to  use  your  own 
knife  in  cutting  up  all  the  dishes  within  your  reach, 
and  particularly  in  helping  yourself  to  butter,  though 
there  may  be  knives  on  purpose.  N.  B.  It  is  of  no 
consequence  whether  your  knife  is  fishy  or  not. 

Don't  wait  for  the  dessert  to  be  laid,  but  the  moment 
a  pudding  or  a  pie  is  placed  within  your  reach,  fall  to 
and  spare  not.  Get  as  much  pudding  and  pie,  and  as 
many  nuts,  apples,  raisins,  &c.,  on  your  plate  as  you 
can,  and  eat  all  together. 

Pay  no  attention  to  the  ladies,  who  have,  or  ought 
to  have,  friends  to  take  care  of  them,  or  they  have  no 
business  to  be  travelling  in  steam-boats. 

The  moment  you  have  eaten  everything  within  your 
reach,  and  are  satisfied  nothing  more  is  forthcoming, 
get  up  and  make  for  the  cabin  door  with  a  segar  in 
your  hand.     No  matter  if  you  are  sitting  at  the  mid- 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS.  95 

die  of  the  inner  side  of  the  table,  and  disturb  a  dozen 
persons,  or  more.  They  have  no  business  to  be  in 
your  way.  If  it  is  supper-time  and  the  candles  are 
lighted,  you  had  best  light  your  segar  at  one  of  them, 
and  pufF  a  little  before  you  proceed,  for  fear  it  should 
go  out.  N.  B.  If  you  were  to  take  an  opportunity 
to  find  fault  with  the  meals,  the  attendants,  and  the 
boat,  in  an  audible  tone,  as  Englishmen  do,  it  will 
serve  to  give  people  an  idea  you  have  been  used  to 
better  at  home. 

Never  think  of  pulling  off  your  hat  on  coming  into 
the  cabin,  though  it  happens  to  be  full  of  ladies.  It 
looks  anti-republican;  and,  besides,  has  the  appear- 
ance of  not  having  been  used  to  better  company. 

Never  miss  an  opportunity  of  standing  in  the  door- 
way, or  on  the  stairs,  or  in  narrow  passages;  and 
never  get  out  of  the  way  to  let  anybody  pass,  parti- 
cularly a  lady. 

If  there  happens  to  be  a  scarcity  of  seats,  be  sure  to 
stretch  yourself  at  fuU  length  upon  a  sofa  or  a  cushion,- 
and,  if  any  lady  looks  at  you  as  if  she  thought  you 
might  give  her  a  place,  give  her  another  look  as  much 
as  to  say,  "  I'll  see  you  hanged,  first." 

If  the  weather  is  cold,  get  directly  before  the  stove, 
turn  your  back,  and  open  the  skirts  of  your  coat  be- 
hind as  wide  as  possible,  that  the  fire  may  have  fair 
play. 

If  you  happen  to  be  better  dressed  than  your  neigh- 
bour, look  at  him  with  an  air  of  superiority ;  and  don't 
hear  him  if  he  has  the  impudence  to  speak  to  you.  If 
it  is  your  ill-fortune  to  be  dressed  not  so  well,  employ 
a  tailor  as  soon  as  possible  to  remedy  the  inferiority. 

Be  sure  to  pay  your  passage,  if  you  have  any  money. 


96  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAYELLERS. 

If  you  have  none,  go  to  sleep  in  some  out-of-the-way 
corner,  and  don't  wake  till  the  moon  rises  in  the 
West. 

Don't  pay  any  attention  to  the  notification  that, 
"no  smoking  is  allowed  abaft  the  wheel ; "  but  strut 
about  among  the  ladies,  on  the  quarter-deck  and  the 
upper  gallery,  with  a  segar  in  your  mouth  on  all 
occasions.  There  are  so  many  ignorant  people  that 
smoke  on  board  steam-boats,  that  it  will  naturally  be 
supposed  you  can't  read,  and  of  course  don't  know  of 
the  prohibition.  If  you  can  get  to  the  windward  of  a 
lady  or  two,  so  much  the  better. 

Whenever  you  are  on  deck  by  day,  be  sure  to  have 
this  book  in  your  hand,  and,  instead  of  boring  your- 
self with  the  scenery,  read  the  descrij)tions,  which  will 
be  found  infinitely  superior  to  any  of  the  clumsy  pro- 
ductions of  nature. 

N.  B.  These  rules  apply  exclusively  to  gentlemen, 
the  ladies  being  allowed  the  liberty  of  doing  as  they 
please,  in  all  respects  except  six. 

They  are  not  permitted  to  eat  beefsteaks  and  mut- 
ton-chops at  breakfast,  unless  they  can  prove  them- 
selves past  fifty. 

They  must  not  sit  at  table  more  than  an  hour, 
unless  they  wish  to  be  counted  hungry,  which  no  lady 
ought  ever  to  be. 

They  must  not  talk  so  loud  as  to  drown  the  noise 
of  the  engine,  unless  their  voices  are  particularly 
sweet. 

They  must  not  enact  the  turtle-dove  before  all  the 
company,  unless  they  can't  help  it. 

They  must  not  jump  overboard  at  every  little  noise 
of  the  machinery. 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  97 

They  must  not  be  always  laughing,  except  they 
have  very  white  teeth. 

With  these  exceptions,  they  may  say  and  do  just 
what  they  like,  in  spite  of  papa  and  mamma,  for  this 
is  a  free  country. 

PASSAGE  UP  THE  HUDSON. 

"  This  magnificent  river,*  which,  taking  it  in  all  its 
combinations  of  magnitude  and  beauty,  is  scarcely 
equalled  in  the  New,  and  not  even  approached  in  the 
Old,  World,  was  discovered  by  Hendrik  Hudson  in 
the  month  of  September,  1609,  by  accident,  as  almost 
every  other  discovery  has  been  made.  He  was  search- 
ing for  a  north-west  passage  to  India  when  he  first 
entered  the  bay  of  New  York,  and  imagined  the  pos- 
sibility that  he  had  here  found  it,  until,  on  exploring 
the  river  upwards,  he  came  to  fresh  water,  ran  aground, 
and  abandoned  his  hopes." 

Of  this  man,  whose  name  is  thus  identified  with  the 
discovery,  the  growth,  and  the  future  prospects  of  a 
mighty  state,  little  is  known ;  and  of  that  little  the  end 
is  indescribably  melancholy.  He  made  four  voyages 
in  search  of  this  imaginary  north-west  passage,  and  the 
termination  of  the  last  (in  1610)  is  in  the  highest 
degree  affecting,  as  related  in  the  following  extracts 
from  the  published  collections  of  the  New  York 
Historical  Society.     The  "Master"  is  Hudson. 

"  You  shall  vnderstand,"  says  Master  Abacuk 
Pricket,  from  whose  account  this  is  taken,  "  that  our 
Master  kept  (in  his  house  at  London)  a  young  man, 
named  Henrie  Greene,  borne  in  Kent,  of  Worshipfull 

*  We  quote  from  the  unpublished  aiia  of  Aldermau  Janson. 

7 


98  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

Parents,  but  by  his  leud  life  and  conuersation  hee  had 
lost  the  good  will  of  all  his  friends,  and  had  spent  all 
that  hee  had.  This  man,  our  Master  would  haue  to 
Sea  with  him,  because  hee  could  write  well:  our 
Master  gaue  him  meate,  and  drinke,  and  lodging,  and 
by  meanes  of  one  Master  Venson^  with  much  adoe  got 
foure  pounds  of  his  mother  to  buy  him  clothes,  where- 
with Master  Venson  would  not  trust  him :  but  saw  it 
laid  out  himselfe.  This  Henrie  Greene  was  not  set 
downe  in  the  owners'  booke,  nor  any  wages  made  for 
him.  Hee  came  first  aboard  at  Grauesend,  and  at 
Harwich  should  haue  gone  into  the  field,  with  one 
Willdnson.  At  Island  the  Surgeon  and  hee  fell  out  in 
Dutch^  and  hee  beat  him  a  shoare  in  English^  which 
set  all  the  company  in  a  rage ;  so  that  wee  had  much 
adoe  to  get  the  Surgeon  aboard.  I  told  the  Master 
of  it,  but  hee  bade  mee  let  it  alone,  for  (said  hee)  the 
Surgeon  had  a  tongue  that  would  wrong  the  best 
friend  hee  had.  But  Robert  luet  (the  Master's  Mate) 
would  needs  burne  his  finger  in  the  embers,  and  told 
the  Carpenter  a  long  tale  (when  hee  was  drunke)  that 
our  Master  had  brought  in  Greene  to  cracke  his  credit 
that  should  displease  him :  which  words  came  to  the 
Master's  eares,  who  when  hee  vnderstood  it,  would 
haue  gone  backe  to  Island,  when  he  was  fortie  leagues 
from  thence,  to  haue  sent  home  his  Mate  Robert  luet 
in  a  Fisher-man.  But,  being  otherwise  perswaded, 
all  was  well.  So  Henry  Greene  stood  vpright,  and 
very  inward  with  the  Master,  and  was  a  seruiceable 
man  euery  way  for  manhood :  but  for  Rehgion,  he 
would  say  he  was  clean e  paper  whereon  he  might 
write  what  he  would.  Now,  when  our  Gunner  was 
dead,  and  (as  the  order  is  in  such  cases)  if  the  com- 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  99 

pany  stand  in  need  of  any  thing  that  belonged  to  the 
man  deceased,  then  is  it  brought  to  the  Mayne  Mast, 
and  there  sold  to  them  that  will  giue  most  for  the 
same :  This  Gunner  had  a  gray  cloth  gowne,  which 
Greene  prayed  the  Master  to  friend  him  so  much  as  to 
let  him  haue  it,  paying  for  it  as  another  would  giue : 
the  jMaster  saith  hee  should,  and  thereupon  hee  an- 
swered some,  that  sought  to  haue  it,  that  Greene 
should  haue  it,  and  none  else,  and  so  it  rested. 

"  Now,  out  of  season  and  time,  the  Master  calleth 
the  Carpenter  to  goe  in  hand  with  an  house  on  shoare, 
which  at  the  beginning  our  Master  would  not  heare, 
when  it  might  haue  been  done.  The  Carpenter  told 
him,  that  the  Snow  and  Frost  were  such,  as  hee 
neither  could,  nor  would  goe  in  hand  with  such  worke. 
Which  when  our  INIaster  heard,  hee  ferreted  him  out 
of  his  Cabbin,  to  strike  him,  calling  him  by  many  foule 
names,  and  threatening  to  hang  him.  The  Carpenter 
told  him  that  hee  knew  what  belonged  to  his  place 
better  then  himselfe,  and  that  hee  was  no  House  Car- 
penter. So  this  passed,  and  the  house  was  (after) 
made  with  much  labour,  but  to  no  end.  The  next 
day  after  the  Master  and  the  Carpenter  fell  out,  the 
Carpenter  tooke  his  Peece  and  Henry  Greene  with 
him,  for  it  was  an  order  that  none  should  goe  out 
alone,  but  one  with  a  Peece,  and  another  with  a  Pike. 
This  did  moue  the  INIaster  so  much  the  more  against 
Henry  Greene^  that  Robert  Billet  his  Mate  must  haue 
the  gowne,  and  had  it  deliuered  vnto  him ;  which 
when  Henry  Greene  saw,  he  challenged  the  Master's 
promise :  but  the  Master  did  so  raile  on  Greene,  with 
so  many  words  of  disgrace,  telling  him,  that  all  his 
friends  would  not  trust  him  with  twenty  shillings,  and 


100  THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

therefore  why  should  he  ?  As  for  wages  he  had  none, 
nor  none  should  haue,  if  he  did  not  please  him  well. 
Yet  the  Master  had  promised  him  to  make  his  wages 
as  good  as  any  man's  in  the  ship ;  and  to  haue  him 
one  of  the  Prince's  guard  when  we  came  home.  But 
you  shall  see  how  the  deuil  out  of  this  so  wrought 
with  Greene^  that  he  did  the  Master  what  mischiefe 
hee  could  in  seeking  to  discredit  him,  and  to  thrust 
him  and  many  other  honest  men  out  of  the  Ship  in 
the  end." 

It  appears  that,  (Greene  having  come  to  an  under- 
standing with  others  whom  he  had  corrupted),  a  j)lot 
was  laid,  to  seize  Hudson  and  those  of  the  crew  that 
remained  faithful  to  him,  put  them  on  board  a  small 
shallop  which  was  used  in  making  excursions  for  food 
or  observations,  and  run  away  with  the  ship.  Of  the 
manner  in  which  this  was  consummated  the  same 
writer  gives  the  following  relation  : 

"  Being  thus  in  the  Ice  on  Saturday,  the  one  and 
twentieth  of  lune  at  night,  Wilson^  the  Boatswayne, 
and  Henry  Greene  came  to  mee  lying  (in  my  Cabbin) 
lame,  and  told  mee  that  they  and  the  rest  of  their 
Associates  would  shift  the  Company,  and  turne  the 
Master,  and  all  the  sicke  men  into  the  shallop,  and 
let  them  shift  for  themselues.  For,  there  was  not 
fourteen  dales'  victual  left  for  all  the  Company,  at  that 
poore  allowance  they  were  at,  and  that  there  they  lay, 
the  Master  not  caring  to  goe  one  way  or  other :  and 
that  they  had  not  eaten  any  thing  these  three  dayes, 
and  therefore  were  resolute,  either  to  mend  or  end,  and 
what  they  had  begun  they  would  goe  through  with  it, 
or  dye." 

Pricket  refuses,  and  expostulates  with  Wilson  and 
Greene. 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  101 

"  Eeiwy  Greene  told  me  then,  that  I  must  take  my 
fortune  in  the  Shallop.  If  there  bee  no  remedie,  (^aid 
1),  the  will  of  God  bee  done." 

Pricket  tries  to  persuade  them  to  put  off  their  design 
for  two  days,  nay,  for  twelve  hours,  that  he  might  per- 
suade Hudson  to  return  home  with  the  ship ;  but,  to 
this  they' would  not  consent,  and  proceeded  to  execute 
their  plot  as  follows  :  — 

"  In  the  meane  time  Henrie  Greene  and  another 
w^ent  to  the  Carpenter,  and  held  him  with  a  talke,  till 
the  Master  came  out  of  his  Cabbin  (which  hee  soone 
did) :  then  came  lohn  Thomas  and  Bennet  before  him, 
w^hile  Wilson  bound  his  armes  behind  him.  He  asked 
them  what  they  meant  ?  They  told  him,  he  should 
know  when  he  was  in  the  Shallop.  Now  luet^  while 
this  was  a  doing,  came  to  lolin  King  into  the  Hold, 
who  was  prouided  for  him,  for  he  had  got  a  sword  of 
his  own,  and  kept  him  at  a  bay,  and  might  haue  killed 
him,  but  others  came  to  helpe  him  :  and  so  he  came 
vp  to  the  Master.  The  Master  called  to  the  Carpen- 
ter, and  told  him  that  he  was  bound ;  but,  I  heard  no 
answere  he  made.  Now  Arnold  Lodlo,  and  31ichael 
Bute  rayled  at  them,  and  told  them  their  knauerie 
would  shew  itselfe.  Then  was  the  Shallop  haled  vp 
to  the  Ship  side,  and  the  poore,  sicke,  and  lame  men 
were  called  vpon  to  get  them  out  of  their  Cabbins 
into  the  Shallop.  The  Master  called  to  me,  who  came 
out  of  my  Cabbin  as  well  as  I  could,  to  the  Hatchway 
to  speake  with  him :  where,  on  my  knees  I  besought 
them,  for  the  loue  of  God,  to  remember  themselues,  and 
to  doe  as  they  would  be  done  vnto.  They  bad  me 
keepe  my  selfe  well,  and  get  me  into  my  Cabbin ;  not 
suffering  the  Master  to  speake  with  me.     But  when  I 


102  THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

came  into  my  Cabbin  againe,  hee  called  to  me  at  the 
Home,  which  gaue  light  into  my  Cabbin,  and  told 
mee  that  luet  would  ouerthrow  vs  all ;  nay  (said  I)  it 
is  that  villaine  Henrie  Greene^  and  I  spake  it  not 
softly." 

"  Now  were  all  the  poore  men  in  the  Shallop,  whose 
names  are  as  followeth ;  Henrie  Hudson^  lolin  Hudson^ 
Arnold  Lodlo,  Sidrack  Faner,  Phillip  Staff e^  Thomas 
Woodhouse,  or  Wj/dhouse,  Adam  Moore^  Henrie  King, 
Michael  Bute.  The  Carpenter  got  of  them  a  Peece, 
and  Powder,  and  Shot,  and  some  Pikes,  an  Iron  Pot, 
with  some  meale,  and  other  things.  They  stood  out 
of  the  Ice,  the  Shallop  being  fast  to  the  Sterne  of  the 
Shippe,  arid  so,  (when  they  were  nigh  out,  for  I  can- 
not say  they  were  cleane  out),  they  cut  her  head  fast 
from  the  Sterne  of  our  Ship,  then  out  with  their  Top- 
sayles,  and  towards  the  East  they  stood  in  a  cleere 
Sea." 

The  mutineers,  being  on  shore  some  days  after, 
were  attacked  by  a  party  of  Indians. 

"  lohn  TJiomas  and  William  Wilson  had  their  bowels 
cut,  and  3Iichael  Perce  and  Henry  Greene  being  mor- 
tally wounded,  came  tumbling  into  the  Boat  together. 
When  Andrew  Moter  saw  this  medley,  hee  came  run- 
ning downe  the  Rockes,  and  leaped  into  the  Sea,  and 
so  swamme  to  the  Boat,  hanging  on  the  sterne  thereof, 
till  Michael  Perce  tooke  him  in,  who  manfnlly  made 
good  the  head  of  the  Boat  against  the  Sauages,  that 
pressed  sore  vpon  vs.  Now  Michael  Perce  had  got  an 
Hatchet,  wherewith  I  saw  him  strike  one  of  them, 
that  he  lay  sprawling  in  the  Sea.  Henry  Greene 
crieth  Coragia,  and  layeth  about  him  with  his  Trun- 
cheon :    I   cryed   to   them   to   cleere   the   Boat,   and 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.      103 

Andrew  3Ioter  cryed  to  bee  taken  in  :  the  Sauages  be- 
tooke  them  to  their  Bowes  and  Arrowes,  which  they 
sent  amongst  vs,  wherewith  Henry  Greene  was  slaine 
outright,  and  Michael  Perce  receiued  many  wounds, 
and  so  did  the  rest.  Michael  Perce  cleereth  the  Boate, 
and  puts  it  from  the  shoare,  and  helpeth  Andrew 
Moter  in :  but,  in  turning  of  the  Boat,  I  receiued  a 
cruell  wound  in  my  backe  with  an  Arrow.  Michael 
Perce  and  Andrew  Moter  rowed  the  Boate  away, 
which  when  the  Sauages  saw,  they  ranne  to  their 
Boats,  and  I  feared  they  would  haue  launched  them, 
to  haue  followed  vs,  but  they  did  not,  and  our  ship 
was  in  the  middle  of  the  channell,  and  could  not 
see  vs. 

"  Now,  when  they  had  rowed  a  good  way  from  the 
shoare,  Michael  Perce  fainted,  and  could  row  no  more  : 
then  was  Andreio  Bloter  driuen  to  stand  in  the  Boat 
head,  and  waft  to  the  ship,  which  (at  the  first)  saw  vs 
not,  and  when  they  did,  they  could  not  tel  what  to 
make  of  vs,  but  in  the  end  they  stood  for  vs,  and  so 
tooke  vs  vp.  Henry  Greene  was  throwne  out  of  the 
Boat  into  the  Sea,  and  the  rest  were  had  aboard,  the 
Sauage  being  yet  aliue,  yet  without  sense.  But  they 
died  all  there  that  day,  William  Wilson  swearing  and 
cursing  in  the  most  fearefull  manner:  3Iichael  Perce 
lined  two  dayes  after,  and  then  died.  Thus  you  haue 
heard  the  Tragicall  end  of  Henry  Greene  and  his 
Mates,  whom  they  called  Captaine,  these  foure  being 
the  only  lustie  men  in  all  the  ship." 

After  this,  Robert  Juet  took  the  command,  but 
"  dyed,  for  meere  want,"  before  they  arrived  at  Ply- 
mouth, which  is  the  last  we  hear  of  them,  except  that 
Pricket  was  taken  up  to  London  to  Sir  Thomas  Smith. 


104  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

The  unfortunate  Hudson  and  his  companions  were 
never  heard  of  more.  Doubtless  they  perished  miser- 
ably, by  famine,  cold,  or  savage  cruelty.  But  the 
mighty  river  which  he  first  explored,  and  the  great 
bay  to  the  north,  by  bearing  his  name,  preserve  his 
memory,  and  will  continue  to  preserve  it  to  the  latest 
posterity.  We  thought  we  could  do  no  less  than  call 
the  attention  of  the  traveller,  for  a  few  moments,  to 
the  hard  fate  of  one  to  whom  they  are  originally  in- 
debted for  much  of  the  pleasures  of  the  tour  to  the 
Springs. 

After  the  traveller  has  paid  tribute  to  the  memory 
of  Henry  Hudson  by  reading  the  preceding  sketch  of 
his  melancholy  end,  he  may  indulge  himself  in  con- 
templating the  beautiful  world  expanding  every  mo- 
ment before  him,  appearing  and  vanishing  in  the 
rapidity  of  his  motion,  like  creations  of  the  imagina- 
tion. Every  object  is  beautiful,  and  its  beauties  are 
heightened  by  the  eye  having  no  time  to  be  palled 
with  contemplating  them  too  long.  Nature  seems  in 
jocund  motion  hurrying  by,  and  as  she  moves  along 
displays  a  thousand  varied  charms  in  rapid  succession, 
each  one  more  enchantmg  than  the  last.  If  the  trav- 
eller casts  his  eyes  backwards,  he  beholds  the  long 
perspective  of  waters  gradually  converging  to  a  point 
at  the  Narrows,  fringed  with  the  low  soft  scenery  of 
Jersey  and  Long 'Island,  and  crowned  with  the  little 
buoyant  islands  on  its  bosom.  If  he  looks  before  him, 
on  one  side  the  picturesque  shore  of  Jersey,  with  its 
rich  strip  of  meadows  and  orchards,  now  backed  by 
the  wood-crowned  hills,  and  again  by  perpendicular 
walls  of  solid  rock,  and  on  the  other,  York  Island 
with  its  thousand  little   palaces,  sporting  its   green 


THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  105 

fields  and  waving  woods,  by  turns  allure  his  attention, 
and  make  him  wish,  either  that  the  river  had  but  one 
side,  or  that  he  had  more  eyes  to  admire  its  beauties. 
As  the  vessel  wafts  him  merrily,  merrily  along,  new 
beauties  crowd  upon  him  so  rapidly  as  almost  to  con- 
fuse the  impressions  of  the  view.  That  noble  ledge 
of  rocks  which  is  worthy  to  form  the  barrier  of  the 
noble  river,  and  which  extends  for  sixteen  miles,  shows 
itself  in  a  succession  of  sublime  bluffs,  projecting  out 
one  after  the  other,  looking  like  the  fabled  works  of 
the  giants.  High  on  these  cliffs,  may  be  seen  the 
woodman,  pitching  his  billet  from  the  very  edge  down 
a  precipice  of  hundreds  of  feet,  whence  it  slides  or 
bounds  to  the  water's  edge,  and  is  received  on  board 
its  destined  vessel.  At  other  points,  on  some  steep 
slope,  you  will  see  the  quarriers,  undermining  huge 
masses  of  rocks  that  in  the  lapse  of  ages  have  sepa- 
rated from  the  cliff  above,  and  setting  them  rolling 
down  with  thundering  crashes  to  the  level  beach  be- 
low. Here  and  there  under  the  dark  impending  cliff, 
where  nature  has  formed  a  little  green  nook  or  flat, 
some  enterprising  skipper  who  owns  a  little  periauger, 
or  some  hardy  quarryman,  has  erected  his  little  cot. 
There,  when  the  afternoon  shadows  envelop  the  rocks, 
the  woods,  and  the  shore,  may  be  seen  little  groups 
of  children  sporting  in  all  the  glee  of  youthful  idle- 
ness—  some  setting  their  shaggy  dog  to  swimming 
after  a  chip,  others  worrying  some  patient  pussy, 
others  wading  along  the  smooth  sands,  knee-deep  in 
the  waters,  and  others,  perhaps,  stopping  to  stare  at 
the  moving  wonder  champing  by,  then  chasing  the  long 
ripple  occasioned  by  its  furious  motion,  as  it  breaks 
along  the  beach.     Contrasting  beautifully  with  this 


106  THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

long  mural  precipice  on  the  west,  the  eastern  bank 
exhibits  a  charming  variety  of  outline,  in  long,  grace- 
ful, curving  hills,  —  here  sinking  into  little  vales,  each 
pouring  forth  a  gurgling  brook  —  there  rising  again, 
into  tree-clad  eminences,  presenting  the  image  of  a  suc- 
cession of  mighty  waves,  suddenly  arrested  in  their 
rolling  career,  and  turned  into  mingled  woods  and 
meadows  and  fertile  fields,  rich  in  aU  the  evidences 
of  industry,  and  animated  with  cattle,  sheep,  and 
whistling  ploughmen. 

These  precipices  are  said  to  be  of  the  trap  forma- 
tion, a  most  important  species  of  rock  in  geology,  as 
whoever  "  understands  trap  "  may  set  up  for  a  master 
of  the  science.  In  many  places,  this  trap  formation 
is  found  apparently  based  on  a  horizontal  stratum  of 
primitive  rock.  This  has  somewhat  shaken  the  trap 
theory,  and  puzzled  geokigists.  But  we  leave  them 
to  settle  the  affair,  and  pass  on  to  objects  of  more 
importance  to  the  tourist,  in  a  historical  point  of  view 
at  least. 

At  Sneden's  Landing,  opposite  Dobb's  Ferry,  the 
range  of  perpendicular  trap  rocks,  disappears.  You 
again  detect  it,  opposite  Sing  Sing,  where  it  exhibits 
itself  in  a  most  picturesque  and  beautiful  manner  at 
intervals,  in  the  range  of  mountains  bordering  the 
west  side  of  the  river,  between  Nyack  and  Haver- 
straw.  At  Sneden's  commences  a  vast  expanse  of 
salt-meadows,  generally  so  thickly  studded  with  bar- 
racks and  hay-stacks,  as  to  present  at  a  distance  the 
appearance  of  a  great  city  rising  out  of  the  famed 
Tappan  Sea,  like  Venice  from  the  Adriatic.  Travel- 
lers, who  have  seen  both,  observe  a  great  similarity 
—  but,  on  the  whole,  prefer  the  hay-stacks.     Here 


jL  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR  TRAYELLERS.  107 

begins  the  Tappan  Sea,  where  the  river  expands  to 
a  breadth  of  three  miles,  and  where,  in  the  days  of 
log-canoes  and  pine  skiffs,  full  many  an  adventm'ous 
navigator  is  said  to  have  encomitered  dreadful  perils 
in  crossing  over  from  the  Slote  *  to  Tarrytown.  At 
present  its  dangers  are  all  traditionary. 

The  western  border  of  this  beautiful  expanse  is 
mountainous;  but  the  hills  rise  in  such  gradual 
I  ascent  that  the  whole  is  cultivated  to  the  very  top, 
,  and  exhibits  a  charming  display  of  variegated  fields. 
i  That  the  soil  was  once  rich  is  established  by  the  fact 
of  this  whole  district  being  settled  by  the  Dutch,  than 
whom  there  never  was  a  people  better  at  smelling 
out  rich  vales  and  fat  alluvial  shores.  Here  the  race 
subsists,  unadulterated  to  the  present  time.  The 
sons  are  cast  in  the  same  mould  with  the  father  and 
grandfather;  the  daughters  depart  not  from  the  ex- 
amples of  their  mothers  and  grandmothers.  The  for- 
mer eschew  the  mysteries  of  modern  tailoring,  and 
the  latter  borrow  not  the  fashion  of  their  bonnets  from 
the  French  milliners.  They  travel  not  in  steam- 
boats, or  in  any  other  newfangled  inventions ;  abhor 
canals  and  railroads,  and  will  go  five  miles  out  of  the 
•way  to  avoid  a  turnpike.  They  mind  nobody's  busi- 
ness but  their  own,  and  such  is  their  inveterate  at- 
tachment to  home,  that  it  is  credibly  reported  there 
are  men  now  living  along  the  shores  of  the  river,  who 
not  only  have  never  visited  the  renowned  Tarry- 
town,  directly  opposite,  but  who  know  not  even  its 
name. 

They  are  deplorably  deficient  in  the  noble  science 

[*  A  creek  just  South  of  the  present  Piermont  dock.    It  was  called  by 
the  old  Dutch  folks,  The  Tappan  Slote.] 


108  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

of  gastronomy,  and  such  is  their  utter  barbarity  of 
taste,  that  they  never  eat  but  when  they  are  hungry, 
nor  after  they  are  satisfied,  and  the  consequence  of 
this  savage  indifference  to  the  chief  good  of  life  is  that 
they  one  and  all  remain  without  those  infallible  pa- 
tents of  high-breeding,  gout  and  dyspepsia.  Since 
the  period  of  the  first  settlement  of  this  region,  the 
only  changes  that  have  ever  been  known  to  take 
place  are,  first,  those  brought  about  by  death,  wlio,  if 
report  says  true,  has  sometimes  had  his  match  with 
some  of  these  tough  old  copperheads  ;  secondly,  in  the 
aspect  of  the  soil,  which  from  an  interminable  forest 
has  become  a  garden;  and,  thirdly,  in  the  size  of  the 
loaves  of  bread,  which  from  five  feet  long  have  dwin- 
dled down  into  the  ordinary  dimensions.  For  this 
unheard-of  innovation,  the  ])eo[)le  adduce  in  their  jus- 
tification the  following  undoubted  tradition,  wliich, 
like  their  hats  and  their  petticoats,  has  descended 
from  generation  to  generation  without  changing  a 
syllable. 

"  Some  time  in  the  autumn  of  the  year  1694,  just 
when  the  woods  were  on  the  change,  Yffi'ouw,  or 
Vrouw,  Katrinchee  Van  Noorden  was  sitting  at  break- 
fast with  her  husband  and  family,  consisting  of  six 
stout  boys  and  as  many  strapping  girls,  all  dressed  in 
their  best,  for  it  was  of  a  Sunday  morning.  Vrouw 
Katrinchee  had  a  loaf  of  fresh  rye-bread  between  her 
knees,  the  top  of  which  was  about  on  a  line  with 
her  throat,  the  other  end  resting  upon  a  napkin  on 
the  floor;  and  was  essaying  with  the  edge  of  a  sharp 
knife  to  cut  off  the  upper  crust  for  the  youngest  boy, 
who  was  the  pet;  wiien  unfortunately  it  ^recoiled 
from  the  said  crust,  and,  before  the  good  vrouw  had 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       109 

time  to  consider  the  matter,  sliced  off  her  head  as 
clean  as  a  whistle,  to  the  great  horror  of  Mynheer 
Van  Noorden,  who  actually  stopped  eating  his  break- 
fast. This  awful  catastrophe  brought  the  big  loaves 
into  disrepute  among  the  people,  but  such  was  their 
attachment  to  good  old  customs,  that  it  was  not 
until  Domine  Koontzie  denounced  them  as  against 
the  law  and  the  prophets  that  they  could  be  brought 
to  give  them  up.  As  it  is,  the  posterity  of  the  Van 
Noordens  to  this  day  keep  up  the  baking  of  big 
I  loaves,  in  conformity  to  the  last  will  and  testament  of 
their  ancestor,  who  decreed  that  the  memory  of  this 
event  should  be  thus  preserved  in  his  family."  * 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  snugly  nestling  in 
a  little  bay,  lies  Tarrytown,  famous  for  its  vicinity  to 
Ithe  spot  where  the  British  spy,  Andre,  was  intercep- 
ted by  the  three  honest  lads  of  Westchester.  If  the 
curious  traveller  is  inclined  to  stop  and  view  this  spot, 
to  which  a  romantic  interest  will  ever  be  attached, 
the  following  directions  will  suffice. 

"  Landing  at  Tarrytown,  f  it  is  about  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  to  the  post-road,  at  Smith's  tavern.     Follow- 
ing the  post-road  due  North,  about  half  a  mile,  you 
3ome  to  a  little  bridge  over  a  small  stream,  known  by 
die  name  of  Clark's  Kill,  and  sometimes  almost  dry. 
formerly  the  wood  on   the  left  hand.  South  of  the 
bridge,  approached  close  to  the  road,  and  there  was  a 
)ank  on  the  opposite  side,  which  was  steep  enough 
o  prevent  escape  on  horseback  that  way.     The  road 
rem  the  North,  as  it  approaches  the   bridge,  is  nar- 

*  We  quote  from  the  manuscript  ana  of  Alderman  Janson,  to  which  we 
hall  frequently  refer  in  the  course  of  this  work. 
t  Vide  ana  of  Alderman  Janson. 


110  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

rowed  between  two  banks  of  six  or  eight  feet  high, 
and  makes  an  angle  just  before  it  reaches  it.  Here, 
close  within  the  copse  of  wood  on  the  left,  as  you 
approach  from  the  village,  the  three  militia  lads,  (for 
lads  they  were,  being  hardly  one  and  twenty),  con- 
cealed themselves,  to  wait  for  a  suspicious  stranger, 
of  whom  they  had  notice  from  a  Mrs.  Read,  at  whose 
house  they  had  stopped  on  their  way  towards  Kings- 
bridge.  A  Mr.  Talmadge,  a  Revolutionary  officer, 
and  a  member  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  some 
years  since  took  occasion  to  stigmatize  these  young 
men,  as  Coio  Boys,  out  on  a  plundering  expedition. 
The  imputation  was  false ;  they  were  in  possession 
of  passes  from  General  Philip  Van  Courtlandt,  to 
proceed  beyond  the  lines,  as  they  were  called,  and  of 
course,  by  the  laws  of  war,  were  authorized  to  be 
where  they  were. 

"  As  Major  Andre  approached,  according  to  the 
universal  tradition  among  the  old  people  of  West- 
chester, John  Paulding  darted  out  upon  him  and 
seized  his  horse's  bridle.  Andre  was  exceedingly 
startled  at  the  suddenness  of  this  rencounter,  and,  in 
in  a  moment  of  unguarded  surprise,  exclaimed  — 
*  Where  do  you  belong  ?  ' 

" '  Below, '  was  the  reply,  this  being  the  expression 
commonly  used  to  designate  the  lines  of  the  British, 
who  were  then  in  possession  of  New  York. 

"  *  So  do  I, '  was  the  rejoinder  of  Andre  in  the  joy- 
ful surprise  of  the  moment.  It  has  been  surmised 
that  this  hasty  admission  sealed  his  fate.  But,  when 
we  reflect  that  he  was  suspected  before,  and  that 
afterwards  not  even  the  production  of  his  pass  from 
General  Arnold  could  prevail  upon  the  young  men  to 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       Ill 

let  him  go,  it  will  appear  sufficiently  probable  that 
this  imprudent  avowal  was  not  the  original  cause  of 
his  being  detained  and  examined.  After  some  discus- 
sion and  the  exhibiting  of  his  pass,  he  was  taken  into 
the  wood,  and  searched,  not  without  a  good  deal  of 
unwillingness  on  his  part.  It  is  said  he  particularly- 
resisted  the  puUing-off  of  his  right  boot,  which  con- 
tained the  treasonable  documents.  When  these  were 
discovered,  it  is  also  said  that  Andre  unguardedly  ex- 
claimed, '  I'm  lost!';  but,  presently  recollecting  him- 
self, added,  '  No  matter  —  they  dare  not  hang  me.' 

"  Finding  himself  discovered,  Andre  offered  his 
gold  watch  and  a  purse  of  guineas  for  his  release. 
These  were  rejected.  He  then  proposed  that  they 
should  secrete  him,  while  one  of  the  party  carried  a 
letter,  which  he  would  write  in  their  presence,  to  Sir 
Henry  Clinton,  naming  the  ransom  necessary  to  his 
discharge,  and  which  they  might  themselves  specify, 
pledging  his  honour  that  it  should  accompany  their 
associate  on  his  return.  To  this  they  likewise  refused 
their  assent.  Andrd  then  threatened  them  with  a 
severe  punishment  for  daring  to  disregard  a  pass  from 
the  commanding  general  at  West  Point;  and  bade 
them  beware  of  carrying  him  to  head-quarters,  for  they 
would  only  be  tried  by  a  court-martial  and  punished 
for  mutiny.  Still  the  firmness  of  these  young  men 
sustained  them  against  all  these  threats  and  tempta- 
tions, and  they  finally  delivered  him  to  Colonel  Jame- 
son. It  is  no  insignificant  evidence  of  the  weight  of 
the  influences  thus  overcome,  that  Colonel  Jameson, 
an  ofl[icer  of  the  regular  army,  commanding  a  point 
of  great  consequence,  so  far  yielded  to  the  production 
of  this  pass  as  to  permit  Andre  to  write  to  General 


112  THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

Arnold  a  letter,  which  enabled  that  traitor  to  escape 
the  ignominious  fate  he  deserved. 

"  While  in  custody  of  the  three  Westchester  volun- 
teers, Andre  is  said  gradually  to  have  recovered  from 
his  depression  of  spirits,  so  as  to  sit  with  them  after 
supper,  and  chat  about  himself  and  his  situation,  still 
preserving  his  incognito  of  John  Anderson.  In  the 
course  of  the  evening  which  he  passed  in  their  com- 
pany, he  related  the  following  singular  little  anecdote. 
It  seems,  the  evening  before  he  left  London  to  embark 
for  America,  he  was  in  company  with  some  young 
ladies  of  his  familiar  acquaintance,  when  it  was  pro- 
posed, that,  as  he  was  going  to  a  distant  country  on 
a  perilous  service,  he  should  have  his  fortune  told  by 
a  famous  sibyl,  at  that  time  fashionable  in  town,  in 
order  that  his  friends  might  know  what  would  become 
of  him  while  away.  They  went  accordingly,  when 
the  beldam,  after  the  customary  grimace  and  cant, 
on  examining  his  palms,  gravely  announced,  '  That 
he  was  going  a  great  distance,  and  would  either 
be  hanged,  or  come  very  near  it,  before  he  returned.' 
All  the  company  laughed  at  this  awful  annunciation, 
and  joked  with  him  on  the  way  back.  '  But,'  added 
Andre,  smiling,  '  I  seem  in  a  fair  way  of  fulfilling 
the  prophecy.' 

"  It  was  not  till  Andre  arrived  at  head-quarters,  and 
concealment  became  no  longer  possible,  that  he  wrote 
the  famous  letter  to  General  Washington,  avowing 
his  name  and  rank.  He  was  tried  by  a  court-martial, 
found  guilty  on  his  own  confession,  and  hanged  at 
Tappan,  where  he  met  his  fate  with  dignity,  and  ex- 
cited in  the  bosoms  of  the  Americans  that  sympathy 
as  a  criminal,  which  has  since  been  challenged  for  him 


ll 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.      113 

as  a  hero  and  a  martyr.  A  few  years  since,  the  Brit- 
ish consul  at  New  York  caused  his  remains  to  be  dis- 
interred and  sent  to  England,  where,  to  perpetuate  if 
possible  the  delusion  of  his  having  suffered  in  an  hon- 
ourable enterprise,  they  were  buried  in  Westminster 
Abbey,  among  heroes,  statesmen,  and  poets.  The 
thanks  of  Congress,  with  a  medal,  an  annuity,  and  a 
farm,  were  bestowed  on  each  of  the  three  young  vol- 
unteers, and,  lately,  a  handsome  monument  has  been 
erected  by  the  corporation  of  New  York,  to  John 
Paulding,  at  Peekskill,  where  his  body  was  buried. 
The  other  two,  Isaac  Van  Wart  and  David  Williams, 
still  survive. 

"  About  half  a  quarter  of  a  mile  south  of  Clark's 
Kill  bridge,  on  the  high-road,  formerly  stood  the  great 
tulip,  or  white-wood,  tree,  which,  being  the  most  con- 
spicuous object  in  the  immediate  vicinity,  has  been 
usually  designated  as  the  spot  where  Andre  was  taken 
and  searched.  It  was  one  of  the  most  magnificent  of 
trees,  one  hundred  and  eleven  feet  and  a  half  high, 
the  limbs  projecting  on  either  side  more  than  eighty 
feet  from  the  trunk,  which  was  ten  paces  round.  More 
than  twenty  years  ago  it  was  struck  by  lightning,  and 
its  old  weather-beaten  stock  so  shivered  that  it  fell  to 
the  ground,  and  it  was  remarked  by  the  old  people, 
that  on  the  very  same  day  they  for  the  first  time  read 
in  the  newspapers  the  death  of  Arnold.  Arnold  lived 
in  England  on  a  pension,  which  we  believe  is  still 
continued  to  his  children.  His  name  was  always 
coupled,  even  there,  with  infamy;  insomuch  that 
wlien  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  Lord  Shelburne,  and 
other  violent  opponents  of  the  American  Revolu- 
tionary war,  were  appointed  to  office,  the  late  Duke 

8 


114  THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

of  Lauderdale  remarked  that,  '  If  the  king  wished  to 
employ  traitors,  he  wondered  that  he  should  have 
overlooked  Benedict  Arnold.'  For  this  he  was  called 
out  by  Arnold,  and  they  exchanged  shots,  but  without 
effect.  Since  then  we  know  nothing  of  Arnold's 
history,  till  his  death.  He  died  as  he  lived  during 
the  latter  years  of  his  life,  an  object  of  detestation 
to  his  countrymen,  of  contempt  to  the  rest  of  the 
world. 

"  There  is  a  romantic  interest  attached  to  the  inci- 
dents just  recorded,  which  will  always  make  the  cap- 
ture of  Andre  a  popular  story ;  and  the  time  will 
come  when  it  will  be  chosen  as  the  subject  of  poetry 
and  the  drama,  as  it  has  been  of  history  and  tradition. 
There  is  already  a  play  founded  upon  it,  by  Mr. 
William  Dunlap,  the  writer  and  translator  of  many 
dramatic  works.  Mr.  Dunlap  has  however,  we  think, 
committed  a  mistake,  in  which  nevertheless  he  is 
countenanced  by  most  other  writers  —  that  of  making 
Andre  his  hero.  There  is  also  extant  a  history  of  the 
whole  affair,  written  by  Joshua  Hett  Smith,  the  person 
who  accompanied  Andre  across  the  river  from  Haver- 
straw,  and  whose  memory  is  still  in  some  measure 
implicated  in  the  treason  of  Arnold.  It  is  written 
with  much  passion  and  prejudice,  and  abounds  in 
toryisms.  Neither  Washington,  Greene,  nor  any  of 
the  members  of  the  court-martial,  escape  the  most  de- 
grading imputations :  and  the  three  young  men  who 
captured  Andre  are  stigmatized  with  cowardice,  as 
well  as  treachery !  The  history  is  the  production  of 
a  man  who  seems  to  have  had  but  one  object,  that 
of  degrading  the  characters  of  others,  with  a  view  of 
bolstering  up  his  own.     Washington  and  Greene  re- 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       115 

quire  no  guardians  to  defend  their  memory,  at  one 
time  assailed  by  women  and  dotards,  on  the  score  of 
having,  the  one,  presided  at  the  just  condemnation 
of  a  spy,  the  other,  refused  his  pardon  to  the  threats 
and  bullyings  of  the  enemy.  The  reputations  of  the 
three  young  captors  of  Andre  have  also  been  attacked, 
where  one  would  least  of  all  expect  it  —  in  the  Con- 
gress of  the  United  States,  where,  some  years  ago,  an 
honourable  member  denounced  them  as  Cow  Boys; 
and  declared  to  the  house  that  Major  Andre  had 
assured  him  he  would  have  been  released,  could  he 
have  made  good  his  promises  of  great  reward  from 
Sir  Henry  Clinton.  The  characters  of  these  men 
were  triumphantly  vindicated  by  the  publication  of 
the  testimony  of  nearly  all  the  aged  inhabitants  of 
Westchester,  who  bore  ample  testimony  to  the  purity 
of  their  lives  and  the  patriotism  of  their  motives.  The 
slander  is  forgotten,  and  if  its  author  be  hereafter 
remembered,  no  one  will  envy  him  his  reputation." 

Tarrytown  is  still  farther  distinguished  by  being 
within  a  mile  or  two  of  Sleepy  Hollow^  the  scene  of  a 
pleasant  legend  of  our  friend  Geoffrey  Crayon,  with 
whom  in  days  long  past  we  have  often  explored  this 
pleasant  valley,  fishing  along  the  brooks,  though  he 
was  beyond  all  question  the  worst  fisherman  we  ever 
knew.  He  had  not  the  patience  of  Job's  wife  —  and 
without  patience  no  man  can  be  a  philosopher  or  a 
fisherman. 

SING  SING. 
Sing  Sing  is  a  pleasant  village,  on  the  west  side  of 
the  river,  about  six  miles  above  Tarrytown.     It  is  a 
very  musical  place,  (as  its  name  imports),  for  all  the 


116  THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

birds  sing  charmingly;  and  is  blessed  with  a  pure  air, 
and  delightful  prospects.  There  is  a  silver  mine  a 
couple  of  hundred  yards  from  the  village,  to  which  we 
recommend  the  adventurers  in  the  South- American 
and  North- Carolinian  mines  to  turn  their  attention. 
They  will  certainly  lose  money  by  working  it,  but  the 
money  will  be  spent  at  home,  and  the  village  will  ben- 
efit by  their  patriotism.  If  they  get  ruined,  there  is  a 
state-prison  close  by  where  they  will  find  an  asylum. 
There  is  an  old  lady  living  in  the  neighbourhood,  who 
recollects  hearing  her  father  say,  that  he  had  once, 
before  the  Revolutionary  war,  been  concerned  in  this 
mine;  and  there  is  a  sixpence  still  preserved  in  the 
family,  coined  from  its  produce,  that  only  cost  him 
two  hundred  pounds.  A  new  state-prison  is  being 
built  here,  from  marble  procured  on  the  spot,  in  which 
the  doleful  experiment  of  solitary  confinement  is  to  be 
tried.  It  will  not  do.  It  will  only  be  substituting 
Lingering  torments  for  those  of  sudden  death.  With- 
out society,  without  books,  without  employment,  with- 
out anticipations,  and  without  the  recollection  of  any 
thing  but  crimes,  insanity  or  death  must  be  the  con- 
sequence of  a  protracted  seclusion  of  this  sort.  A 
few  days  will  be  an  insufficient  lesson,  and  a  few 
months  would  be  worse  than  death  —  madness  or 
idiocy.  It  is  a  fashionable  Sunday  excursion  with  a 
certain  class  of  idlers  in  New  York,  to  visit  this  prison 
in  the  steam-boat.  It  is  like  going  to  look  at  their 
lodgings  before  they  are  finished.  Some  of  them  wiU 
get  there  if  they  don't  mind.  After  all,  we  think  those 
philanthropists  are  in  the  right,  who  are  for  abolishing 
the  criminal  code  entirely,  and  relying  on  the  improved 
spirit  of  the  age  and  the  progress  of  moral  feeling. 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 


IIT 


Three  or  four  miles  east  of  Sing  Sing,  is  the  Chap- 
PAQUA  Spring,  which  at  one  time  came  very  nigh  get- 
ting the  better  of  Ballston,  Saratoga  and  Harrowgate, 
for  it  is  a  fact  well  authenticated,  that  one  or  two  per- 
sons of  good  fashion  came  uncommonly  near  being 
cured  of  that  incurable  disease  called  "  I  dont  know 
what,"  by  drinking  these  waters.  Upon  the  strength 
of  this,  some  "  public-spirited  individuals  "  erected  a 
great  hotel  for  the  public  accommodation.  We  wish 
we  knew  their  names,  as  we  look  upon  every  man 
who  builds  a  tavern  as  a  public  benefactor,  upon  the 
authority  of  the  famous  prize-poet,  heretofore  quoted, 
who  says :  — 

"  Thrice  happy  land !  to  glorious  fates  a  prey, 
Where  taverns  multiply,  and  cots  decay ! 
And  happy  they,  the  happiest  of  their  kind, 
Who  ease  and  treedoni  in  a  tavern  find ! 
No  household  cares  molest  the  chosen  man 
Who,  at  the  tavern,  tosses  off  his  can, 
Who,  far  from  all  the  irksome  cares  of  life, 
And,  most  of  all,  that  care  of  cares,  a  -wife, 
Lives  free  and  easy,  all  the  livelong  year. 
And  dies  -without  the  tribute  of  a  tear, 
Save  from  some  Boniface's  bloodshot  eye, 
Who  grieves  that  such  a  liberal  soul  should  die. 
And  on  that  '  Canongate  of  Chronicles,'  the  door, 
Leave  such  a  long  unliquidated  score." 


POINT  NO  POINT. 

Directly  opposite  to  Sing  Sing  is  Point  no  Point,  a 
singular  range  of  highlands  of  the  trap  formation, 
which  is  extremely  apt  to  deceive  the  traveller  w^ho 
don't  "  understand  trap",  as  the  geologists  say.  In 
s;iiling  along  up  the  river,  a  point  of  land  appears  at 
ail  times,  (except  in  a  dense  fog  or  a  dark  night,  when 
we  advise  the  reader  not  to  look  out  for  it),  projecting 


118  THE  NEW   MIRROR  FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

far  into  the  river.  On  arriving  opposite,  it  seems  to 
recede,  and  to  appear  again  a  little  beyond.  Some 
travellers  compare  this  Point  no  Point  to  a  great 
metaphysician,  who  reasons  through  a  whole  quarto, 
without  coming  to  a  conclusion.    Others  liken  it  to 

the  great  Dr. ,  who   plays  round  his  subject  lilvc 

children  about  a  bonfire,  but  never  ventures  too  near, 
lest  he  should  catch  it,  and,  belike,  burn  his  fingers. 
Others  again  approximate  it  to  the  speech  of  a  mem- 
ber of  Congress,  which  always  seems  coming  to  the 
point,  but  never  arrives  at  it.  The  happiest  similitude 
however,  in  our  opinion,  was  that  of  a  young  lady, 
who  compared  a  dangling  dandy  admirer  of  hers  to 
Point  no  Point,  "  Because,"  said  she,  "  he  is  always 
pointing  to  his  game,  but  never  makes  a  dead-point." 
If  the  traveller  should  happen  to  go  ashore  here,  by 
following  the  road  from  Slaughter's  Landing  up  the 
mountain,  about  half  a  mile,  he  will  come  suddenly 
upon  a  beautiful  sheet  of  pure  water  nine  miles  in  cir- 
cumference, called  Snedecker's  Lake,  a  name  abhorred 
of  Poetry  and  the  Nine.  The  southern  extremity  is 
bounded  by  a  steep  pine-clad  mountain,  which  dashes 
headlong  down  almost  perpendicularly  into  the  bosom 
of  the  lake,  while  all  the  other  portions  of  its  grace- 
ful circle  are  rich  in  cultivated  rural  beauties.  The 
Brothers  of  the  Angle  may  here  find  pleasant  sport, 
and  peradventure  catch  a  pike,  the  noblest  of  all  fishes, 
because  he  has  the  noblest  appetite.  Alas!,  how  is 
the  pride  of  human  reason  mortified  at  the  thought 
that  a  pike,  not  one  tenth  the  bulk  of  a  common-sized 
man,  can  eat  as  much  as  half  a  score  of  the  most 
illustrious  gourmands!  —  and  that  too  without  dys- 
pepsia, or  apoplexy.     Let  not  man  boast  any  longer 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS.  119 

of  his  being  the  lord  of  the  creation.  Would  we  were 
a  pike,  and  lord  of  Snedecker's  Lake,  for,  as  the  great 
prize-poet  sings  in  a  fit  of  hungry  inspiration :  — 

"  I  sing  the  Pike !  not  him  of  lesser  fame, 
Who  gained  at  Little  York  a  deathless  name, 
And  died  a  martyr  to  his  country's  weal, 
Instead  of  dying  of  a  glorious  meal  — 
But  thee,  0  Pike !,  lord  of  the  finny  crew, 
King  of  the  waters,  and  of  eating,  too. 
Imperial  glutton,  that  for  tribute  seizest 
As  many  glittering  small  fry  as  thou  pleasest, 
Xo  surfeits  on  thy  ample  feeding  wait, 
Ko  apoplexy  shortens  thy  long  date ; 
The  patriarch  of  eating,  thou  dost  shine; 
A  century  of  gluttony  is  thine. 
Sure  the  old  tale  of  transmigration's  true: 
The  soul  of  Heliogabalus  dwells  in  you!  " 


STOXY  POINT. 

This  is  a  rough,  picturesque  point,  pushing  boldly 
out  into  the  river,  directly  opposite  to  Verplanck's 
Point  on  the  east  side.  The  remains  of  a  redoubt  are 
still  to  be  seen  on  its  brow,  and  it  was  the  scene  of  one 
of  the  boldest  exploits  of  one  of  the  boldest  spirits  of 
a  revolution  fruitful  in  both.  The  fort  was  carried  at 
midnight  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  by  a  party  of 
Americans  under  General  Anthony  Wayne,  the  fire- 
eater  of  his  day.  In  order  to  judge  of  this  feat,  it  is 
necessary  to  examine  the  place  and  see  the  extreme 
difficulty  of  approach.  The  last  achievement  of 
"  Mad  Anthony"  —  (so  he  was  christened  by  his  admir- 
ing soldiers  who  w^ould  follow  him  any  where) — was 
the  decisive  defeat  of  the  Indians  at  the  battle  of 
Miami,  in  1794,  which  gave  rest  to  a  long-harassed 
and  extensive  frontier,  and  led  to  the  treaty  of  Green- 
ville, by  which  the  United  States  acquired  an  immense 


120  THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

accession  of  territory.  He  died  at  Presque  Isle  on 
Lake  Erie,  in  the  fifty-second  year  of  his  age.  It  is 
believed  that  Pennsylvania  yet  owes  him  a  monu- 
ment. 

There  is  a  light-house  erected  here,  on  the  summit 
of  the  point.  We  have  heard  people  laugh  at  it  as 
entirely  useless,  but  doubtless  they  did  not  know  what 
they  were  talking  about.  Light-houses  are  of  two 
kinds,  the  useful  and  the  ornamental.  The  first  are 
to  guide  mariners,  the  others  to  accommodate  the 
lovers  of  the  picturesque.  The  light-house  at  Stony 
Point  is  of  the  latter  description.  It  is  a  fine  object 
either  in  approaching  or  leaving  the  Highlands,  and 
foul  befall  the  carping  Smelfungus  who  does  not 
thank  the  public-spirited  gentleman,  (whoever  he  was), 
to  whom  we  of  a  picturesque  turn  are  indebted  for 
the  contemplation  of  this  beautiful  superfluity.  Half 
the  human  race,  (we  mean  no  disparagement  to  the 
lasses  we  adore),  and  indeed  half  the  world,  is  only 
made  to  look  at.  Why  not,  then,  a  light-house  ?  The 
objections  are  untenable,  for  if  a  light-house  be  of  no 
other  use,  it  at  least  affords  a  snug  place  for  some  lazy 
philosopher  to  loll  out  the  rest  of  his  life  on  the  feather- 
bed of  a  cosy  sinecure. 

We  now  approach  the  Highlands,  and  advise  the 
reader  to  shut  himself  up  in  the  cabin  and  peruse  the 
following  pages  attentively,  as  it  is  our  intention  to 
give  a  sketch  of  this  fine  scenery,  so  infinitely  superior 
to  the  reality,  that  Nature  will  not  be  able  to  recognise 
herself  in  our  picture. 

Genius  of  the  picturesque  sublime,  or  the  sublime 
picturesque,  inspire  us!  Thou  that  didst  animate  the 
soul  of  John  Bull,  insomuch  that,  if  report  says  true, 


THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS.  121 

he  did  once  get  up  from  dinner,  before  it  was  half  dis- 
cussed, to  admire  the  sublime  projection  of  Anthony's 
Nose  —  thou  that  erewhile  didst  allure  a  first-rate  belle 
and  beauty  from  adjusting  her  curls  at  the  looking- 
glass,  to  gaze  for  more  than  half  a  minute  at  beauties 
almost  equal  to  her  own  —  thou  that  dost  sometimes 
actually  inspirit  that  last  best  work  of  the  ninth  part 
of  a  man,  the  dandy,  actually  to  yawn  with  delight  at 
the  Crow's  Nest,  and  pull  up  his  breeches  at  sight  of 
Fort  Putnam  —  thou  genius  of  travellers,  and  tutelary 
goddess  of  book-making  —  grant  us  a  pen  of  fire,  ink 
of  lightning,  and  words  of  thunder,  to  do  justice  to 
the  mighty  theme! 

First  comes  the  gigantic  Donderbarrack  —  (all 
mountains  are  called  gigantic,  because  the  ancient 
race  of  giants  was  turned  into  mountains,  which 
accounts  for  the  race  being  extinct)  —  first  comes  the 
mighty  Donderbarrack,  president  of  hills  —  (we  allow 
of  no  king-mountains  in  our  book)  —  whose  head  is 
hid  in  the  clouds,  whenever  the  clouds  come  down 
low  enough ;  at  whose  foot  dwells  in  all  the  feudal 
majesty  (only  a  great  deal  better)  of  a  Rhoderick  Dhu', 
the  famous  highland  chieftain,  Caldwell,  lord  of  Don- 
derbarrack, and  of  all  the  little  hills  that  grow  out  of 
his  ample  sides  like  warts  on  a  giant's  nose.  To  this 
mighty  chieftain  all  the  steam-boats  do  homage,  by 
ringing  their  bells,  slowing  their  machinery,  and  send- 
ing their  boats  ashore  to  carry  him  the  customary 
tribute,  to  wit,  store  of  visitors,  whom  it  is  his  delight 
to  entertain  at  his  hospitable  castle.  This  stately 
pile  is  of  great  antiquity,  its  history  being  lost  in  the 
dark  ages  of  the  last  century,  when  the  Indian  prowled 
about  these  hills,  and  shot  his  deer,  ere  the  advance  of 


122  THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

the  white  man  swept  him  away  forever.     Above  —  as 
the  prize-poet  sings  — 

"  High  on  the  cliffs  the  towering  eagles  soar  — 
But  hush,  my  muse  —  for  poetry's  a  bore." 

Turning  the  base  of  Donderbarrack,  the  nose  of  all 
noses,  Anthony's  Nose,  gradually  displays  itself  to  the 
enraptured  eye,  which  must  be  kept  steadily  fixed  on 
these  our  glowing  pages.  Such  a  nose  is  not  seen 
every  day.  Not  the  famous  hero  of  Slawkenbergius, 
whose  proboscis  emulated  the  steeple  of  Strasburg, 
ever  had  such  a  nose  to  his  face.  Taliacotius  him- 
self never  made  such  a  nose  in  his  life.  It  is  worth 
while  to  go  ten  miles  to  hear  it  blow  —  you  would 
mistake  it  for  a  trumpet.  The  most  curious  thing 
about  it  is,  that  it  looks  no  more  like  a  nose  than  my 
foot.  But,  now  we  think  of  it,  there  is  something 
still  more  curious  connected  with  this  nose.  There  is 
not  a  soul  born  within  five  miles  of  it,  but  has  a  nose 
of  most  jolly  dimensions  —  not  quite  as  large  as  the 
mountain,  but  pretty  well.  It  is  the  custom  for  the 
passengers  in  steam-boats  to  salute  it  in  passing  with 
a  universal  blow  of  the  nose :  after  which,  they  shake 
their  kerchiefs  at  it,  and  put  them  carefully  in  their 
pockets.  No  young  lady  ever  climbs  to  the  top  of 
this  stately  nose,  without  affixing  her  white  cambric 
handkerchief  to  a  stick,  placing  it  upright  in  the 
ground,  and  leaving  it  waving  there,  in  hopes  that  aU 
her  posterity  may  be  blessed  with  goodly  noses. 

Immediately  on  passing  the  Nose  the  Sugar  Loaf 
appears:  keep  your  eye  on  the  book  for  your  life  — 
you  will  be  changed  to  a  loaf  of  sugar  if  you  don't. 
This  has  happened  to  several  of  the  disciples  of  Lot's 


THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  123 

wife,  who  thereby  became  even  sweeter  than  they 
were  before.  Remember  poor  Eurydice,  whose  fate 
w^as  sung  in  burlesque  by  an  infamous  outcast  bach- 
elor, who,  it  is  said,  was  afterwards  punished,  by 
marrying  a  shrew  who  made  him  mix  the  mustard 
every  day  for  dinner. 

WEST  POINT. 

"  If  the  traveller,"  observes  Alderman  Janson,  "  in- 
tends stopping  here,  to  visit  the  INIilitary  Academy 
and  its  admirable  superintendent,  I  advise  him  to 
make  his  w^ill  before  he  ventures  into  the  landing- 
boat.  That  more  people  have  not  been  drowned  in 
this  adventurous  experiment  can  only  be  accounted 
for  on  the  supposition  that  miracles  are  growing  to 
be  but  every-day  matters.  There  is,  I  believe,  a  law 
regulating  the  mode  of  landing  passengers  from 
steam-boats,  but  it  is  a  singular  fact  that  laws  will 
not  execute  themselves,  notwithstanding  all  the  wis- 
dom of  the  legislature.  Not  that  I  mean  to  find  fault 
wdth  the  precipitation  wdth  which  people  and  luggage 
are  tumbled  together  into  the  boat,  and  foisted  ashore 
at  the  rate  of  fifteen  miles  an  hour.*  At  least  five 
minutes  in  the  passage  to  Albany  is  saved  by  this 
means,  and  so  much  added  to  the  delights  of  the 
tourist,  w^ho  is  thereby  enabled  to  spend  five  minutes 
more  at  the  Springs.  Who  w^ould  not  risk  a  little 
drowning,  and  a  little  scalding,  for  such  an  object? 
Certainly  the  most  precious  of  all  commodities,  (espe- 
cially to  people  who  don't  know  what  to  do  with  it), 
is  time  ;  except,  indeed,  it  may  be,  money  to  a  miser 
who  never  spends  any.     It  goes  to  my  heart  to  find 


124  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

fault  with  any  thing  in  this  best  of  all  possible  worlds, 
where  the  march  of  mind  is  swifter  than  a  race-horse 
or  a  steam-boat,  and  goes  hand-in-hand  with  the  pro- 
gress of  public  improvement,  like  Darby  and  Joan,  or 
Jack  and  Gill,  blessing  this  fortunate  generation,  and 
preparing  the  way  for  a  world  of  steam-engines,  spin- 
ning-jennies, and  machinery :  insomuch  that  there 
would  be  no  use  at  all  for  such  an  animal  as  man  in 
this  world  any  more,  if  steam-engines  and  spinning- 
jennies  would  only  make  themselves.  But  the  reader 
will  I  trust  excuse  me  this  once,  for  venturing  to 
hint  with  a  modesty  that  belongs  to  my  nature,  that 
all  this  hurry  —  this  racing — this  tumbling  of  men, 
women,  children,  and  baggage,  into  a  boat,  helter- 
skelter  —  this  sending  them  ashore  at  the  risk  of  their 
lives  —  might  possibly  be  excusable  if  it  were  done 
for  the  public  accommodation.  But  such  is  not  the 
fact.  It  is  nothing  but  the  struggle  of  interested  com- 
petition, the  effort  to  run  down  a  rival  boat,  and  get 
all,  instead  of  sharing  with  others.  The  public  ac- 
commodation requires  that  boats  should  go  at  ditier- 
ent  times  of  the  day,  yet  they  prefer  starting  at  the 
same  hour,  nay,  at  the  same  moment — eager  to 
sweep  off  the  passengers  along  the  river,  and  risking 
the  lives  of  people  at  West  Point,  that  they  may  take 
up  the  passengers  at  Newburgh.  The  truth  is,  in 
point  of  ease  and  comfort,  convenience  and  safety, 
the  public  is  not  now  half  so  well  off  as  during  the 
existence  of  what  the  said  public  was  persuaded  to 
call  a  great  grievance  —  the  exclusive  right  of  Mr. 
Fulton. 

"  There  is  a  most  comfortable  hotel  at  West  Point, 
kept   by   Mr.   Cozzens,  a   most   obliging   and   good- 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.      125 

humoured  man,  to  whom  we  commend  all  our  read- 
ers, with  an  assurance  that  they  need  not  fear  being 
cozened  by  him.  Nothing  can  be  more  interesting 
than  the  situation  of  West  Point,  the  grand  object  to 
which  it  is  devoted,  and  the  magnificent  views  it 
affords  in  all  directions.  If  there  be  any  inspiration 
in  the  sublime  works  of  nature,  or  if  the  mind,  as 
some  believe,  receives  an  impulse  or  direction  from 
local  situation,  there  is  not,  perhaps,  in  the  world,  a 
spot  more  favourable  to  the  production  of  heroes  and 
men  of  science.  Secluded  from  the  effeminate,  or 
vicious,  allurements  of  cities,  both  mind  and  body  pre- 
serve a  vigorous  freshness  which  is  eminently  favour- 
able to  the  development  of  each  without  enfeebling 
either.  Manly  studies  and  manly  exercise  go  hand-in- 
hand,  and  manly  sentiments  are  the  natural  conse- 
quence. The  bodies  of  the  cadets  are  invigorated  by 
military  exercise  and  habits,  while  their  intellects  are 
strengthened,  expanded,  and  purified,  by  the  acquire- 
ment of  those  high  branches  of  science,  those  graces 
of  literature,  and  those  elegant  accomplishments, 
which  when  combined  constitute  the  complete  man. 
No  one  whose  mind  is  susceptible  of  noble  emotions 
can  see  these  fine  young  fellows  going  through  their 
exercises  on  the  plain  of  West  Point,  to  the  sound  of 
the  bugle  repeated  by  a  dozen  echoes  of  the  moun- 
tains, while  all  the  magnificence  of  nature  concurs  in 
adding  beauty  and  dignity  to  the  scene  and  the  occa- 
sion, without  feeling  his  bosom  swell  and  glow  with 
patriotic  pride. 

"  If  these  young  men  require  an  example  to  warn 
or  to  stimulate,  they  will  find  it  in  the  universal  exe- 
cration heaped  upon  the  name  and  the  memory  of 


126  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

Benedict  Arnold,  contrasted  with  the  reverential  affec- 
tion, that  will  forever  descend  to  the  latest  posterity  as 
an  heirloom,  with  which  every  American  pronounces 
the  name  of  Washington.  It  was  at  West  Point  that 
Arnold  betrayed  his  country,  and  it  was  on  the  hills 
opposite  West  Point  that  Washington  wintered  with 
his  army,  during  the  most  gloomy  period  of  our  Revo- 
lution, rendered  still  more  gloomy  by  the  treason  of 
Arnold,  so  happily  frustrated  by  the  virtue  of  the 
American  yeomanry.  The  remains  of  the  huts  are 
still  to  be  seen  on  Redoubt  Hill  and  its  vicinity,  and 
there  is  a  fine  spring  on  the  banks  of  a  brook  near  by, 
to  this  day  called  Washington's,  from  being  the  spring 
whence  the  water  was  procured  for  his  drinking.  It 
issues  from  the  side  of  a  bank  closely  embowered  with 
trees,  and  is  excessively  cold.  The  old  people  in  the 
vicinity,  who  generally  live  to  about  a  hundred,  still 
cherish  the  tradition  of  its  uses,  and  direct  the  atten- 
tion of  inquirers  to  it,  with  a  feeling  than  which 
nothing  can  more  affectingly  indicate  the  depth  of  the 
devotion  to  her  good  father  implanted  in  the  heart  of 
America.  Close  to  the  spring  are  two  of  the  prettiest 
little  cascades  to  be  found  any  where.  Indeed,  the 
whole  neighbourhood  abounds  in  beautiful  views  and 
romantic  associations,  and  it  is  worth  while  to  cross 
over  in  a  boat  from  West  Point  to  spend  a  morning 
here  in  rambling." 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  from  West  Point, 
and  about  two  miles  distant,  lies  Cold  Spring,  a 
pleasant,  thriving  little  village.  Perhaps  the  pleasant- 
est  ride  in  the  whole  country  is  from  here  to  Fishkill 
Landing.  A  road  has  been  made  along  the  foot  of  the 
mountains.     On  one  hand  it  is  washed  by  the  river 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.      127 

—  on  the  other  overhung  by  Bull  and  Breakneck 
Hills,  the  base  of  which  latter  has  been  blown  up  in 
places  to  afford  room  for  it  to  pass.  The  prospects 
all  along  are  charming,  and,  on  turning  the  beak  of 
Breakneck  Hill,  there  opens  to  the  north  and  north- 
west a  view,  which  when  seen  will  not  soon  be  for- 
gotten. 

Nearly  opposite  Cold  Spring,  at  the  foot  of  two 
mountains  and  inaccessible  except  from  the  river,  lies 
the  City  of  Faith  —  a  city  by  brevet ;  founded  by  an 
enterprising  person,  with  the  intention  of  cutting  out 
Washington,  and  making  it  the  capital  of  the  United 
States  —  and  indeed  of  the  New  World.*  He  has 
satisfied  himself  that  the  spot  thus  aptly  selected  is 
the  point  of  navigation  the  nearest  possible  to  the 
great  Northern  Pacific,  and  contemplates  a  railroad, 
from  thence  to  the  mouth  of  Columbia  River.  This 
must  necessarily  concentrate  travel  at  this  fortunate 
spot.  After  which  his  intention  is  to  dig  down  the 
Crow's  Nest  and  Butter  Hill,  or  decompose  the  rocks 
with  vinegar,  in  order  that  travellers  may  get  at  his 
emporium,  by  land,  without  breaking  their  necks. 
He  has  already  six  inhabitants  to  begin  with,  and 
wants  nothing  to  the  completion  of  this  great  project, 
but  a  bank  —  a  subscription  of  half  a  dozen  millions 
from  the  government  —  a  loan  of  "  the  credit  of  the 
state,"  for  about  as  much  —  and  a  little  more  faith  in 
the  people.  We  think  the  prospect  quite  cheering, 
and  would  rejoice  in  the  prospective  glories  of  the 
City  of  Faith,  were  it  not  for  the  apprehension  that  it 
will  prove  fatal  to  the  Ohio  and  Chesapeake  Canal, 

[*  There  was  such  a  scheme.    The  projector  might  have  been  a  visionary; 
but  he  got  up  a  fine  map,  and.  sold  as  many  lots  as  he  could.] 


128  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

and  swallow  up  the  Mamakating  and  Lacawaxan. 
This  business  of  founding  cities  is  in  America  con- 
sidered a  mere  trifle.  They  make  a  great  noise  about 
Romulus  the  founder  of  Rome,  and  Peter  the  founder 
of  St.  Petersburg !  We  knew  a  man  who  had  founded 
twelve  great  cities,  some  of  which,  like  Rome,  are 
already  in  ruins ;  and  yet  he  never  valued  himself  on 
that  account. 

As  you  emerge  from  the  Highlands,  a  noble  vista  is 
gradually  disclosed  to  the  view.  The  little  towns  of 
New  Cornwall,  New  Windsor,  and  Newburgh,  are 
seen  in  succession  along  the  west  bank  of  the  river, 
which  here,  as  if  rejoicing  at  its  freedom  from  the 
mountain  barrier,  expands  itself  into  a  wide  bay,  with 
Fishkill  and  Matteawan  on  the  east,  and  the  three 
little  towns  on  the  opposite  side,  the  picturesque  shores 
of  which  rise  gradually  into  highlands,  bounded  in  the 
distance  to  the  north-west  by  the  blue  summits  of 
the  Kaatskill  Mountains.  Into  this  bay,  on  the  east, 
enters  Fishkill  Creek,  a  fine  stream  which  waters 
some  of  the  richest  and  most  beautiful  valleys  of 
Dutchess  County.  Approaching  the  Hudson,  it  ex- 
hibits several  picturesque  little  cascades,  which  have 
lately  been  spoiled  by  dams  and  manufactories,  those 
atrocious  enemies  to  all  picturesque  beauty,  as  the 
prize-poet  exclaims  in  a  fine  burst  of  enthusiasm  — 
poetical  enthusiasm,  consisting  in  swearing  roundly. 

"Mill-dams  be  damned,  and  all  his  race  accurs'd, 
Who  damned  a  stream  by  damming  it  the  first!" 

On  the  west,  and  nearly  opposite,  enters  Murderer's 
Creek,  which,  after  winding  its  way  through  the  de- 
lightful vale  of  Canterbury,  as  yet  unvisited  and 
undescribed  by  tourist  or  traveller,  tumbles  over  a 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  129 

villanoLis  mill-dam  into  the  river.  If  the  traveller  has 
a  mind  for  a  beautiful  ride  in  returning  from  the 
Spring:^,  let  him  land  at  Newburgh,  and  follow  the 
turnpiive-road  through  the  village  of  Canterbury,  on 
to  the  Clove,  a  pass  of  the  great  range  of  mountains, 
through  with  the  Ramapo  plunges  its  way  among  the 
rocks.  The  ride  through  this  pass  is  highly  interest- 
ing, and  the  point  where  the  Ramapo  emerges  from 
the  southern  side  of  the  mountains  is  well  worthy  of 
attention.  Here  joining  the  Mauwy,  it  courses  its 
way  through  a  narrow  vale  of  exquisite  beauty,  till  it 
is  lost  on  the  Pompton  Plains  in  the  river  of  that 
name.  The  roads  are  as  good  as  usual,  but  the  ac- 
commodations are  not  the  best  in  the  world,  and  those 
who  love  good  eating  and  good  beds  better  than 
nature's  beauties,  (among  whom  we  profess  ourselves), 
may  go  some  other  way.  Those  who  choose  this 
route  by  way  of  variety,  must  by  no  means  forget  the 
house  of  Mynheer  Roome,  at  Pompton  village  famed 
in  song,  where  they  will  meet  with  mortal  store  of 
good  things,  including  sweetmeats  of  divers  sorts  and 
cakes  innumerable  and  unutterable,  and  hear  the 
Dutch  language  spoken  in  all  its  original  purity,  with 
the  true  Florentine  accent. 

But  let  the  traveller  beware  of  talking  to  him  about 
turnpikes,  railways,  or  canals,  all  which  he  abhorreth. 
In  particular,  avoid  the  subject  of  the  Morris  Canal, 
at  the  very  name  of  which  Mynheer's  pipe  will  be 
seen  to  pour  forth  increasing  volumes  of  angry  smoke, 
and,  like  another  Vesuvius,  he  will  disgorge  whole 
torrents  of  red-hot  Dutch  lava.  In  truth  jNIynheer 
Roome  has  an  utter  contempt  for  modern  improve- 
ments, and  we  don't  know  but  he  is  half-right.    "  Dey 

9 


130  THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

always  cost  more  dan  dey  come  to,"  he  says ;  and 
those  who  contemplate  the  sober  primitive  indepen- 
dence of  the  good  JMynheer,  and  see  his  fat  cattle,  his 
fat  negroes,  and  his  fat  self,  encompassed  by  rich  mea- 
dows and  smiling  fields,  all  unaided  by  the  magic  of 
modern  improvements,  will  be  apt  to  think  with  him, 
"  dat  one  half  dese  tings  dey  call  improvements  "  add 
little,  if  anything,  to  human  happiness,  or  domestic 
independence. 

Within  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  of  Mynheer 
Roome's  door,  the  Pompton,  Ramapo,  and  Ringwood, 
three  little  rivers  in  whose  very  bottoms  you  can  see 
your  face,  unite  their  waters,  gathered  from  the  hills 
to  the  North  and  "West,  and,  assuming  the  name  of 
the  first,  wind  through  the  extensive  plain  in  many 
playful  meanders  almost  out  of  character  for  Dutch 
rivers,  till  they  finally  disaj)pear,  through  a  break  in 
the  hills,  towards  the  South.  From  Pompton  there 
is  a  good  road  to  Hoboken,  by  diverging  a  little  from 
which  the  traveller  may  visit  the  falls  of  Passaic, 
which  were  once  the  pride  of  nature,  who  has  lately 
resigned  them  to  her  rival,  art,  and  almost  disowns 
them  now.  But  it  is  high  time  to  return  to  Mur- 
derer's Creek,  and  Canterbury  Vale,  which  hath  been 
sung,  (by  the  prize-poet  so  often  quoted),  in  the  fol- 
lowing strains,  which  partake  of  the  true  mystical 
metaphysical  sublime. 

"  As  I  was  going  to  Canterbury, 
I  met  twelve  hay-cocks  in  a  furv, 
And,  as  I  gaz'd,  a  hieroglyphic  bat 
Skimm'd  o'er  the  zenith  in  a  slip-shod  hat." 

From  which  the  intelligent  traveller  will  derive  as 
clear  an  idea  of  the  singular  charms  of  this  vale  as 
from  most  descriptions  in  prose  or  verse. 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  131 

The  name  of  IMurderer's  Creek  is  said  to  be  de- 
rived from  the  following  incidents. 

Little  more  than  a  century  ago,  the  beautiful  re- 
gion watered  by  this  stream  was  possessed  by  a  small 
tribe  of  Indians,  long  since  become  extinct  or  incor- 
porated with  some  other  savage  nation  of  the  west. 
Three  or  four  hundred  yards  from  where  the  stream 
discharges  itself  into  the  Hudson,  a  white  family,  of 
the  name  of  Stacey,  had  established  itself  in  a  log- 
house,  by  tacit  permission  of  the  tribe,  to  whom  Stacey 
had  made  himself  useful  by  his  skill  in  a  variety  of 
little  arts  held  in  high  estimation  by  the  savages.  In 
particular,  a  friendship  subsisted  between  him  and 
an  old  Indian  called  Naoman,  who  often  came  to  his 
house  and  partook  of  his  hospitality.  The  Indians 
never  forgive  injuries,  nor  forget  benefits.  The  fam- 
ily consisted  of  Stacey,  his  wife,  and  two  children,  a 
boy  and  girl,  the  former  five,  the  latter  three  years  old. 

One  day,  while  Stacey  was  absent,  Naoman  came 
to  his  log-hut,  lighted  his  pipe,  and  sat  down.  He 
looked  very  serious,  sometimes  sighed  deeply,  but 
said  not  a  word.  Stacey's  wife  asked  him  what  was 
the  matter,  and  if  he  was  sick.  He  shook  his  head, 
sighed,  but  said  nothing,  and  soon  went  away.  The 
next  day  he  came  again,  and  behaved  in  the  same 
manner.  Stacey's  wife  began  to  think  strange  of 
this,  and  related  it  to  her  husband,  who  advised  her 
to  urge  the  old  man  to  an  explanation,  the  next  time 
he  came.  Accordingly,  when  he  repeated  his  visit  the 
day  after,  she  was  more  importunate  than  usual. 

At  last  the  old  Indian  said,  "  I  am  a  red  man, 
and  the  pale-faces  are  our  enemies  —  why  should  I 
speak  ?  " 


132  THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

"  But  my  husband  and  I  are  your  friends ;  you 
have  eaten  salt  with  us  a  thousand  times,  and  my 
children  have  sat  on  your  knee  as  often.  If  you  have 
any  thing  on  your  mind,  tell  it  me." 

"  It  will  cost  me  my  life  if  it  is  known,  and  the 
white-faced  women  are  not  good  at  keeping  secrets," 
replied  Naoman. 

"  Try  me,  and  see." 

"  Will  you  swear  by  your  Great  Spirit,  you  will  tell 
none  but  your  husband  ?  " 

"  I  have  none  else  to  tell." 

"  But  will  you  swear  ?  " 

"  I  do  swear  by  our  Great  Spirit,  I  will  tell  none 
but  my  husband." 

"Not  if  my  tribe  should  kill  you  for  not  telling?" 

"  Not  if  your  tribe  sliould  kill  me  for  not  telling." 

Naoman  then  proceeded  to  inform  her  that,  owing 
to  some  encroachments  of  the  white  people  below  the 
mountains,  his  tribe  had  become  irritated,  and  were 
resolved  that  night  to  massacre  all  the  white  settlers 
within  their  reach ;  and  bade  her  find  her  husband  at 
once,  notify  him  of  the  danger,  and,  as  secretly  and 
speedily  as  possible,  take  their  canoe,  and  paddle  over 
the  river  to  Fishkill  for  safety.  "  Be  quick,  and  do 
nothing  that  may  excite  suspicion,"  said  Naoman  as 
he  departed.  The  good  wife  sought  her  husband, 
who  was  on  the  river,  fishing,  and  told  him  the  story. 
As  no  time  was  to  be  lost,  they  proceeded  to  their 
boat,  which  was,  unluckily,  filled  with  water.  It  took 
some  time  to  clear  it  out,  and  meanwhile  Stacey 
recollected  his  gun,  which  had  been  left  behind.  He 
hurried  back  to  the  house,  and  returned  with  it.  All 
this  took  up  considerable  time,  and  costly  time  it 
proved  to  this  poor  family. 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  133 

The  daily  visits  of  old  Naoman,  and  his  more  than 
ordinary  gravity,  had  excited  suspicion  in  some  of  the 
tribe,  who  had  accordingly  paid  particular  attention 
to  the  movements  of  Stacey.  One  of  the  young 
Indians  who  had  been  kept  on  the  watch,  seeing 
the  whole  family  about  taking  to  their  boat,  ran  to 
the  little  Indian  village,  about  a  mile  off,  and  gave  the 
alarm.  Five  Indians  ran  down  to  the  riverside  where 
their  canoes  were  moored,  jumped  in,  and  paddled 
after  Stacey,  who  by  this  time  had  got  some  distance 
out  into  the  bay.  They  gained  on  him  so  fast,  that 
twice  he  dropped  his  paddle  and  took  up  his  gun. 
But  his  wife  prevented  his  shooting,  by  telling  him 
that,  if  he  fired  arid  they  were  afterwards  overtaken, 
they  would  meet  no  mercy  from  the  Indians.  He 
accordingly  refrained,  and  plied  his  paddle,  till  the 
sweat  rolled  in  big  drops  down  his  forehead.  All 
would  not  do  ;  they  wer^  overtaken  within  a  hundred 
yards  of  the  shore,  and  carried  back  with  yells  of  tri- 
umph. 

When  they  got  ashore,  the  Indians  set  fire  to  Sta- 
cey's  house,  and  dragged  himself,  his  wife,  and  his 
children,  to  their  village.  Here  the  principal  old  men, 
(Naoman  being  one  of  them),  assembled  to  deliberate 
on  the  affair.  The  chief  among  them  stated  that 
some  one  of  the  tribe  had  undoubtedly  been  guilty  of 
treason,  in  apprising  Stacey,  the  white  man,  of  the 
designs  of  the  tribe,  whereby  he  took  the  alarm,  and 
li;id  wellnigh  escaped.  He  proposed  to  examine  the 
prisoners,  as  to  who  gave  the  information.  The  old 
nien  assented  to  this ;  and  Naoman  among  the  rest. 
Stacey  was  first  interrogated  by  one  of  the  old  men, 
who   spoke    English,  and  interpreted  to    the    others. 


134  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

Stacey  refused  to  betray  his  informant.  His  wife 
was  then  questioned,  while  two  Indians  stood  threat- 
ening the  two  children  with  tomahawks.  She  at- 
tempted to  evade  the  truth,  by  declaring  that  she  had 
a  dream  the  night  before,  which  had  alarmed  her,  and 
that  she  had  persuaded  her  husband  to  fly.  "  The 
Great  Spirit  never  deigns  to  talk  in  dreams  to  a 
white-face,"  said  the  old  Indian :  "  Woman,  thou  hast 
two  tongues  and  two  faces.  Speak  the  truth,  or  thy 
children  shall  surely  die."  The  little  boy  and  girl 
were  then  brought  close  to  her,  and  the  two  savages 
stood  over  them,  ready  to  execute  their  bloody  or- 
ders. 

"  Wilt  thou  name,"  said  the  old  Indian,  "  the  red 
man  who  betrayed  his  tribe  ?  I  will  ask  thee,  three 
times."  The  mother  answered  not.  "  Wilt  thou  name 
the  traitor?  This  is  the  second  time."  The  poor 
mother  looked  at  her  husband,  and  then  at  her  child- 
ren, and  stole  a  glance  at  Naoman,  who  sat  smoking 
his  pipe  with  invincible  gravity.  She  wrung  her 
hands  and  wept ;  but  remained  silent.  "  Wilt  thou 
name  the  traitor?  'Tis  the  third,  and  last,  time." 
The  agony  of  the  mother  waxed  more  bitter;  again 
she  sought  the  eye  of  Naoman,  but  it  was  cold  and 
motionless :  a  pause  of  a  moment  awaited  her  reply, 
and  the  next  moment  the  tomahawks  were  raised 
over  the  heads  of  the  children,  who  besought  their 
mother  not  to  let  them  be  murdered. 

"  Stop,"  cried  Naoman.  All  eyes  were  turned  upon 
him.  "  Stop,"  repeated  he,  in  a  tone  of  authority. 
"  White  woman,  thou  hast  kept  thy  word  with  me  to 
the  last  moment.  I  am  the  traitor.  I  have  eaten  of 
the  salt,  warmed  myself  at  the  fire,  shared  the  kind- 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  135 

ness,  of  these  Christian  white  people,  and  it  was  I 
that  told  them  of  their  danger.  I  am  a  withered, 
leafless,  branchless  trunk :  cut  me  down  if  you  will. 
I  am  ready."  A  yell  of  indignation  sounded  on  all 
sides.  Naoman  descended  from  the  little  bank  where 
he  sat,  shrouded  his  face  with  his  mantle  of  skins,  and 
submitted  to  his  fate.  He  fell  dead  at  the  feet  of  the 
white  woman,  by  a  blow  of  the  tomahawk. 

But  the  sacrifice  of  Naoman,  and  the  firmness  of 
the  brave  Christian  mother,  did  not  suffice  to  save  the 
lives  of  the  other  victims.  They  perished  —  how,  it  is 
needless  to  say;  and  the  memory  of  their  fate  has 
been  preserved  in  the  name  of  the  pleasant  stream  on 
whose  banks  they  lived  and  died,  which  to  this  day  is 
called  Murderer's  Creek. 


NEW  CORNWALL,  AXD  NEW  WINDSOR. 

It  is  bad  policy  to  call  places,  new.  The  title  will 
do  very  well  for  a  start,  but,  when  they  begin  to  as- 
sume an  air  of  antiquity,  it  becomes  quite  unsuitable. 
It  is  too  much  the  case  with  those  who  stand  god- 
fathers to  towns  in  our  country.  They  seem  to  think, 
because  we  live  in  a  new  world,  every  thing  must  be 
christened  accordingly.  The  most  flagrant  instance 
of  this  enormity  is  New  York,  which,  although  ten 
times  as  large,  and  ten  times  as  handsome  as  York  in 
England,  is  destined  by  this  infamous  cognomen  of, 
"new,"  to  play  second  to  that  old  worn-out  town, 
which  has  nothing  in  it  worth  seeing  except  its  great 
minster.  The  least  people  can  do,  after  condemning 
a  town  to  be  called  new,  is  to  paint  their  houses  every 
now  and  then,  that  the  place  may  do  honour  to  its 


136  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

title.  But,  between  ourselves,  Monsieur  Traveller, 
the  whole  thing  is  absurd.  Some  score  of  centuries 
hence,  we  shall  have  a  dozen  clutter-headed  antiqua- 
ries disputing  whether  New  York  and  old  York  were 
not  one  and  the  same  city ;  and  it  is  just  as  likely  as 
not,  that  the  latter  will  run  away  with  all  the  glories  of 
the  queen  of  the  new  world.  Why  not  call  our  cities 
by  a  name  absolutely  fresh  to  human  ears,  —  Cone- 
eocheague,  Amoonoosuck,  Chabaquidick,  or  Kathtip- 
pakamuck  ?  There  would  then  be  no  danger  of  their 
being  confounded  with  those  of  the  old  world,  and 
they  would  stand  by  themselves  in  sesquipedalian 
dignity,  till  the  end  of  time,  or  till  people  had  not 
breath  to  utter  their  names. 

"  New  Cornwall,"  as  Alderman  Janson  truly  ob- 
serves, "  is  assuredly  not  one  of  the  largest  towns  on 
the  river;  but  it  might  be  so,  and  it  is  not  its  fault 
that  it  is  not  six  times  as  large  as  Pekin,  London, 
Paris,  or  Constantinople,  as  it  can  be  clearly  proved 
that  it  might  have  extended  half  a  dozen  leagues  to- 
wards any  of  the  four  quarters  of  the  earth,  without 
stumbling  over  any  thing  of  consequence  except  a 
river  and  a  mountain.  If  its  illustrious  founders, 
(whose  names  are  unknown),  instead  of  confining 
their  energies  to  building  a  few  wooden  houses  which 
they  forgot  to  paint  even  with  Spanish-brown,  had 
cut  a  canal  to  the  Pacific  Ocean,  made  a  railroad 
to  Passamaquoddy  and  a  tunnel  under  the  Atlantic, 
and  erected  three  hundred  thousand  handsome  brick 
houses  with  folding  doors  and  marble  mantel-pieces, 
without  doubt  it  might  have  been  at  this  moment  the 
greatest  city  in  the  known  world.  I  am  aware  that 
a  certain  ignoramus  of  a  critic  denies  all  this,  in  as- 


THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  137 

much  as  the  river  is  in  the  way  towards  the  East  and 
therefore  it  cannot  extend  in  that  direction.  But  I 
suppose  this  blockhead  never  heard  of  turning  the 
course  of  the  Hudson  into  the  channel  of  Fishkill 
Creek,  and  so  at  the  same  time  improving  the  naviga- 
tion of  both,  and  affording  ample  space  for  the  growth 
of  the  city  by  digging  down  Fishkill  Mountains. 
Nay,  we  dare  affirm  he  is  totally  ignorant  of  the  mode 
of  sucking  a  river,  or  even  a  sea,  dry,  by  means  of 
sponges,  whereby  it  may  be  easily  passed  over  dry-shod, 
a  method  still  pursued  by  the  people  of  Terra  Incog- 
nita, and  those  that  carry  their  heads  below  their 
necks,  mentioned  by  Herodotus.  We  therefore  affirm 
that  the  only  reason  why  this  is  not  the  greatest  city 
in  the  universe  is  because  the  founders  did  not  do  as  I 
have  just  said.  If  the  aforesaid  blockhead  of  a  critic 
denies  this,  may  he  never  be  the  founder  of  a  great 
city,  or  even  a  great  book.  He  ought  to  know,  block- 
head as  he  is,  that,  in  this  age  of  improvement,  every 
thing  is  possible ;  and  that  the  foundations  of  a  great 
city  may  be  laid  any  where,  in  despite  of  that  old  su- 
perannuated baggage,  '  Nature,'  whom  nobody  minds 
nowadays.  Only  give  me  a  bank,  and  the  liberty  of 
issuing  as  much  paper  as  I  please,  without  the  disa- 
greeable necessity  of  redeeming  it;  or,  only  let  the 
state  of  New  York  '  loan  me  its  credit '  for  a  million 
or  so,  and  I  will  engage  to  turn  Nature  topsy-turvy,  or 
commit  any  other  enormity  in  the  way  of  conferring 
benefits  on  the  community.  If  Archimedes  had 
known  any  thing  about  banks,  ho  would  have  required 
no  other  basis  for  the  lever  with  which  he  was  to  raise 
the  world.  But,  unfortunately  for  the  march  of  mind 
and  the  progress  of  public  improvements,  the  banking 


138  THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

capital  of  this  portion  of  the  republic  was  diverted  to 
one  of  the  most  singular  objects,  by  one  of  the  most 
singular  conspiracies,  on  record. 

"  It  seems  "  continues  the  alderman,  "  that  the  peo- 
ple of  New  York,  with  rather  more  discretion  than 
they  have  since  displayed  in  similar  cases,  became  at 
one  time  rather  shy  of  the  paper-money  of  certain 
country  banks,  and  among  others  of  the  bank  in  ques-* 
tion.  Whereupon  the  directors,  as  Fame  loudly  re- 
ported at  that  time,  did  incontinently  get  together  and 
determine  to  starve  the  good  citizens  of  New  York 
into  swallowing  their  notes,  by  cutting  off  their  sup- 
plies of  Goshen  butter.  Accordingly,  as  the  aforesaid 
goddess  did  loudly  trumpet  forth  to  the  world,  divers 
agents,  directors,  clerks,  and  cashiers,  were  sent  into 
the  rich  bottoms  of  Orange  County,  to  contract  for  all 
the  butter  made,  or  to  be  made,  during  that  remarka- 
ble year.  The  consequence  was  that  a  horrible  scar- 
city took  place  in  New  York,  the  burghers  whereof 
had  for  a  long  time  nothing  to  butter  their  parsnips 
with  but  fair  words.  But  the  sturdy  people  of  the 
metropolis  held  out  manfully,  refusing  for  a  long  time 
to  swallow  the  aforesaid  bank-notes,  until  being  at 
length  actually  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  substitut- 
ing Philadelphia  butter,  they  gave  in  at  last,  and 
agreed  to  swallow  any  thing  rather  than  that.  Here- 
upon the  butter  and  the  notes  of  the  district  came  to 
market  in  great  quantities,  and  such  was  the  sympa- 
thy which  grew  up  between  them,  that  the  latter  act- 
ually turned  yellow,  and  assumed  the  exact  colour  of 
the  former.  In  memory  of  this  renowned  victory  over 
the  New-Yorkers,  the  county  was  called  Orange,  from 
the  hue  of  the  butter,  and  all  the  milkmaids  to  this 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       139 

day  wear  orange-coloured  ribbons,  as  they  sit  milking 
their  cows  and  singing  Dutch  songs." 

This  is  not  the  place  for  dilating  on  the  manifold 
advantages  of  banks  and  paper-money,  which  last  we 
look  upon  as  the  greatest  discovery  of  modern  times, 
and,  indeed,  of  all  times  whatever.  But  w^e  hope  the 
enlightened  traveller  will,  for  a  few  moments,  with- 
draw his  eyes  from  the  beauties  of  the  scenery,  to 
attend  to  some  of  the  most  prominent  blessings  of 
paper-money  and  banks. 

In  the  first  place,  the  institution  of  paper-money 
has  called  forth  the  talents  of  divers  persons  in  the 
fine  arts,  as  is  exemplified  in  the  numerous  attempts 
at  imitation,  which  is  the  basis  of  the  fine  arts.  Be- 
fore the  sublime  invention  of  paper-money,  it  was  not 
worth  while  for  a  man  to  risk  his  neck  or  his  liberty, 
for  the  paltry  purpose  of  counterfeiting  a  silver  dollar ; 
but  now  since  the  forgery  of  a  single  note,  and  the 
successful  passing  it  away,  may  put  a  thousand  dollars 
in  the  pocket,  there  is  some  stimulus  to  the  exercise 
of  genius.  Besides,  a  man  can  carry  in  his  pocket- 
book  forged  notes,  to  the  amount  of  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  dollars,  without  exciting  attention ; 
whereas  the  same  amount  in  counterfeit  specie,  would 
require  a  dozen  wagons  or  a  steam-boat,  and  inevita- 
bly excite  suspicion. 

Thus  it  will  be  found  that  this  branch  of  the  fine 
arts  has  improved  and  extended  prodigiously  under 
the  institution  of  paper-money ;  insomuch  that  the 
works  of  our  best  artists  have  been  frequently  imitat- 
ed so  successfully  as  to  impose  upon  the  most  experi- 
enced eye.  In  addition  to  this  singular  advantage,  it 
cannot  be  denied,  that  every  dollar  thus  created  by 


140  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

this  spirit  of  emulation  in  the  fine  arts  adds  so  much 
to  the  public  wealth,  and  forms  an  accession  to  the 
circulatina:  medium.  When  at  last  its  circulation  is 
stopped,  by  a  discovery,  it  will  generally  be  found  in 
the  hands  of  some  ignorant  labourer,  so  poor  that  the 
loss  of  a  few  dollars  is  a  matter  of  little  consequence, 
as  he  would  at  all  events  be  poor,  either  with  or  with- 
out them.  Besides,  he  deserves  to  sufl'er  for  his  igno- 
rance, like  e very-body  else  in  the  world. 

Another  great  blessing  of  paper-money  is,  that  it 
mak(;s  all  hands  believe  themselves  richer  than  they 
really  are,  as  is  exemplified  in  the  following  authentic 
story  of  a  Connecticut  farmer,  which  we  extract  from 
the  annals  of  that  state. 

The  farmer  had  a  sow  and  pigs,  just  at  the  time  a 
little  bank  was  set  up  in  a  village  hard  by.  The 
bank,  by  making  money  plenty,  raised  the  price  of  his 
sow  and  pigs,  some  fifty  per  cent.  This  tempted  him 
to  sell  them,  which  he  did,  for  a  high  price,  —  as  much 
as  fifty  dollars.  The  next  spring,  he  wanted  another 
sow  and  pigs,  for  his  winter  pork.  In  the  mean  while, 
the  paper  of  the  little  bank,  having  been  issued  with 
too  great  liberality,  had  depreciated  very  considerably, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  give  seventy-five  dollars  for  a 
sow  and  pigs.  Very  well  —  the  sow  and  pigs  were 
now  worth  seventy-five  dollars.  About  this  time,  the 
legislative  wisdom  chartered  another  bank,  in  another 
neighbouring  town,  having  a  church  and  a  black- 
smith's shop  —  but  no  whipping-posts,  they  being 
abolished  for  the  benefit  of  honest  people.  This  made 
money  still  more  plenty  than  before,  and  our  honest 
farmer  was  again  tempted  to  sell  his  sow  and  pigs,  for 
a  hundred  dollars.     He  was  now  worth  fifty  dollars 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  141 

more  than  when  he  commenced  speculating,  but  then 
the  mischief  was  that  he  wanted  a  sow  and  pigs. 
Very  well.  The  multiplication  of  paper  had  its  usual 
effect  in  diminishing  its  value,  and  it  so  happened  that 
he  was  obliged  to  buy  a  sow  and  pigs  for  a  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars.  He  calculated  he  had  now  made  a 
hundred  dollars  by  his  speculation,  but  still  he  had 
nothing  to  show  for  it  but  his  sow  and  pigs.  To 
make  an  end  of  our  story,  our  honest  farmer  was  once 
more  tempted  to  speculate,  by  an  offer  of  two  hun- 
dred dollars  for  his  sow  and  pigs,  and  began  to  talk 
of  buying  an  addition  to  his  farm,  when  unluckily  the 
bank  failed,  and  the  good  man's  speculation  ended  in 
having  exchanged  his  sow  and  pigs  for  nothing.  But 
he  had  enjoyed  the  delight  of  imaginary  wealth  all 
this  time,  w^hich  every  body  knows  is  far  better  than 
the  reality,  as  it  brings  all  the  pleasures  without  any 
of  the  cares  of  riches.  How  often  do  we  see  men, 
rolling  in  actual  wealth,  suffering  more  than  the  pangs 
of  poverty,  by  the  anticipation  of  it;  —  but  who  ever 
saw  one  who  fancied  himself  rich  haunted  by  a  simi- 
lar bugbear  ? 

Banking  capital  is  in  truth  a  capital  thing.  All 
other  capital  is  real;  this  is  ideal,  and  every  body 
■  knows  the  pleasures  of  imagination  far  transcend 
those  of  reality.  It  is  better  than  the  music  of  Am- 
phion  or  Orpheus,  for  the  former  only  whistled  up  the 
walls  of  a  city,  and  the  latter  set  the  trees  and  bears 
dancing;  while  your  banking  capital  can  build  houses, 
and  furnish  them  too ;  and  not  only  put  the  hulls  and 
hears  on  tiptoe,  but  make  an  ass  as  wise  as  Solomon. 
In  short,  not  to  delay  the  traveller  too  long  from  the 
beauties  of  nature,  had  the  old  philosophers  known 


142  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

any  thing  of  paper-money,  they  would  no  longer  have 
disputed  about  the  magnum  honum^  which  is  neither  a 
vile  Brummagem  razor,  nor  a  clear  conscience,  but  an 
abundance  of  paper  currency. 

Newburgh  is  the  capital  of  Orange  County.  It  is 
a  thriving  village,  and  a  great  place  for  holding  con- 
ventions. The  steam-boats  stop  here  just  long  enough 
to  give  people  a  fair  chance  of  breaking  their  sliins, 
in  coming  aboard,  and  getting  ashore.  The  two  tides 
of  people,  meeting,  occasion  a  pleasant  bustle,  very 
amusing  to  the  spectator,  but  not  to  the  actor.  There 
is  a  bank  here,  the  notes  of  which  are  yellow,  in  com- 
pliment to  the  butter.  The  houses  are  mostly  painted 
yellow  for  a  similar  reason,  and  the  men  wear  yellow 
breeches  when  they  go  to  church  on  Sundays.  The 
complexions  of  the  young  women  are  a  little  tinged 
with  this  peculiarity ;  but  they  are  very  handsome 
notwithstanding,  though  they  can't  hold  a  candle  to 
the  jolly  Dutch  girls  at  Fishkill  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  river.  Newburgh  is  not  illustrious  for  any 
particular  delicacy  of  the  table,  which  might  give  it 
distinction,  and  therefore  we  advise  the  intelligent 
traveller  not  to  trouble  himself  to  stop  there.  In 
order  to  eat  his  way  through  a  country  with  proper 
advantage,  the  enlightened  tourist  should  be  apprised 
beforehand  of  these  matters,  else  he  will  travel  to  little 
purpose. 

From  Newburgh  to  Poughkeepsie,  the  river  pre- 
sents nothing  particularly  striking ;  but  the  shores  are 
every  where  varied  with  picturesque  points  of  view. 
Neither  is  there  any  thing  remarkable  in  the  eating 
way.  The  traveller  may  therefore  pass  on  to  Pough- 
keepsie, Pokepsie,  or  Ploughkeepsie,  as  the  Honour- 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  143 

able  Frederick  Augustus  De  Roos  is  pleased  to  call  it 
ill  his  Travels  of  Twenty- One  Days. 

PouGHKEEPSiE  is  the  capital  of  Dutchess  County,  so 
called  in  honour  of  the  Duchess  of  York,  daughter  of 
the  famous  Chancellor  Clarendon.  If  the  Count  de 
Grammont  tells  the  truth,  she  had  very  little  honour 
to  bestow  upon  the  county  in  return.  The  origin  of 
the  word,  Poughkeepsie,  is  buried  in  the  remote  ages 
of  antiquity ;  but  it  is  supposed  to  be  either  Creek  or 
Greek.  It  is  not,  however,  mentioned  by  either  Pto- 
lemy or  Strabo.  This  omission  may  be  supposed  to 
indicate  that  it  was  not  in  being  at  that  time.  But, 
the  fact  is,  the  ancients  were,  like  their  successors  the 
moderns,  deplorably  ignorant  of  this  country,  as  well 
as  of  the  noble  science  of  gastronomy,  and  expended 
as  much  money  upon  a  goose's  liver  as  would  furnish 
a  dozen  tables  with  all  the  delicacies  of  a  Parisian 
Restaurant.  They  stuffed  the  goose  with  figs  —  a  fig 
for  such  stuffing !  Yet  must  we  not  undervalue  the 
skill  of  the  Romans,  who  were  worthy  to  conquer  the 
world,  if  it  were  only  for  discovering  the  inimitable 
art  of  not  only  roasting  a  goose  alive,  but  eating  it 
alive  afterwards.  The  fattening  of  worms  with  meal 
was  also  a  mxatchless  excellence  of  these  people.  But 
it  is  the  noble  and  princely  price  of  their  meals  which 
most  excites  our  envy  and  applause ;  and  in  this 
respect  it  is  that  the  immortal  Apicius,  who  spent  two 
millions  of  dollars  in  suppers,  deserved  to  give  his 
name  to  all  modern  gourmands.  Neither  the  death 
of  Curtius,  nor  of  Cato  of  Utica,  nor  of  any  other 
Roman  worthy,  can  touch  the  heel  of  the  shoe  of  that 
of  the  thrice-renowned  Apicius,  who  starved  himself 
to    death,  for  fear  of   being   starved,  he  having  but 


144  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAYELLERS. 

about  four  hundred  thousand  dollars  left  to  spend  in 
fattening  worms,  enlarging  livers,  and  roasting  geese 
alive.  It  was  a  glorious  era,  when  a  supper  cost  half 
a  million  of  dollars ;  and  it  was  worth  while  for  a 


man 


to  visit  Rome  from  the  uttermost  ends  of  the  earth, 
only  to  see  these  people  eat.  Truly,  we  say  again, 
they  deserved  the  empire  of  the  world. 

The  highest  price  we  ever  paid  for  a  supper  in 
Poughkeepsie,  was  —  we  are  ashamed  to  mention  it  — 
was  seventy-five  cents.  But  then  we  had  no  live  geese, 
stuffed  worms,  or  diseased  livers.  Alas!  we  shall 
never  conquer  the  world  if  we  go  on  in  this  way! 

Somewhere  between  Poughkeepsie  and  Hudson, 
inclusive,  is  said  to  be  a  great  hot-bed  of  politics,  and 
some  of  the  greatest  politicians  of  the  state  infest  this 
quarter.  In  proof  of  this,  it  is  always  found  that  they 
are  on  the  right,  that  is  to  say,  the  strongest,  side.  We 
are  told,  but  do  not  vouch  for  the  fact,  that  they  con- 
sult the  weathercock  on  the  court-house  steeple,  and 
change  their  coats  accordingly.  If  the  wind  blows 
from  the  North-East,  they  put  on  their  domestic  wool- 
lens ;  if  from  the  South,  or  West,  these  being  warm 
winds,  they  change  their  domestic  woollens  for  light 
regent's-cloth  ;  and  if  the  wind  veers  about  as  it  some- 
times does,  without  settling  in  any  quarter,  they  throw 
by  their  coats  entirely,  until  it  blows  steadily.  He 
who  has  but  one  coat  to  his  back  is  obliged  to  turn  it 
to  suit  the  wind  and  weather.  This  is  the  case  with 
but  few,  as  they  are  all  too  good  politicians  to  be  re- 
duced to  such  extremity.  This  maybe  true  or  not; 
we  speak  but  by  hearsay,  and  people  ought  not  to 
believe  every  thing.  Certain  it  is,  however,  that  every 
saddler  in  the  town  publicly   advertises   himself   as 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  145 

"  saddler  and  trimmer^^''  whether  in  allusion  to  his 
politics  or  not,  we  cannot  say.  If  the  former  be  the 
case,  it  shows  a  most  profligate  state  of  public  senti- 
ment. What  would  the  unchangeable,  inflexible 
patriots  of  New  York  and  Albany,  who  don't  turn 
their  coats  above  once  or  twice  a  year,  say  to  such 
open  profession  of  versatility! 

Nevertheless,  Poughkeepsie  abounds  in  the  most 
delectable  of  all  the  works  of  nature,  alwa^ys  excepting 
canvas-back  ducks,  or  geese  roasted  alive ;  to  wit, 
damsels  ineffably  beautiful :  that  is,  if  nature  may 
dispute  with  a  French  milliner  the  honour  of  produc- 
ing a  fashionable  woman,  or  a  woman  fashionably 
accoutred.  We  ourselves  sojourned  here,  erewhile, 
that  is  to  say,  some  five  and  thirty  years  ago,  and 
have  not  yet  got  rid  of  the  scars  of  certain  deep 
wounds,  received  from  the  sharp  glances  of  beauty's 
eyes.  A  walk  on  the  romantic  blutis  which  overhang 
the  river,  of  a  summer  evening,  when  the  boats  are 
gliding  noiselessly  by  at  your  feet,  the  beautiful  land- 
scape softening  in  the  touching  obscurity  of  twilight, 
and  the  skvward  line  of  the  Kaatsbersfs  meltin^  into 
nothing,  with  one  of  these  fair  damsels  hanging  on 
your  arm,  is  a  thing  to  be  remembered  for  many  a 
year,  a  mighty  pretty  morsel  to  put  into  "  time's  wal- 
let," only  it  is  apt  to  give  a  man  the  heart-ache  for  at 
least  ten  years  afterwards.  Many  an  invincible  dandy 
from  the  west  side  of  Broadway,  who  never  felt  the 
pangs  of  love,  except  for  his  own  dear  self,  has  suffered 

.  more  than  his  tailor  from  one  of  these  evening  walks, 
and  lived  to  lament,  in  broadcloth  and  spatterdashes, 
the  loss  of  such  sweet  communion,  such  innocent,  yet 

I  dangerous  delights.     As  the  prize-poet  says:  — 

10 


146  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

"Past  times  are  half  remember'd  dreams; 
The  future,  ev'n  at  best,  but  seems; 
The  present  is  —  and  then  —  is  not; 
Such  is  man  —  and  such  his  lot. 
Behind,  he  cannot  see  for  tears; 
Before,  is  nought  but  hopes  and  fears; 
One  cheats  him  with  an  empty  bubble, 
The  other  always  pa^-s  him  double. 
'Tis  a  vile  farce  of  scenes  ideal, 
"Where  nought  but  misery  is  real." 

From  Poughkeepsie  to  Hudson,  the  eastern  bank  of 
the  river  exhibits  a  uniform  character  of  picturesque 
beauty.  Villages,  and  landing-])laces  at  the  mouths 
of  large  brooks,  are  scattered  at  distances  of  a  few 
miles,  and  all  is  cultivated  and  pastoral  repose.  The 
western  shore  is  more  bold  in  its  features,  bounded 
at  intervals  by  the  blue  peaks  of  the  Kaatsbergs  in  the 
distance.  Here  lies  Kingston,  already  risen  from  its 
ruins,  and  exhibiting  few  traces  of  that  wanton  and 
foolish  barbarity  which  stimulated  the  British  com- 
mander to  set  fire  to  it,  during  the  Revolutionary  war. 
Here,  too,  lies  Athens,  about  which  our  learned  The- 
bans  have  had  such  hot  disputes;  some  maintaining 
that  Boston,  others  that  Philadelphia,  and  others  that 
New  York,  was  the  real  Athens  of  America.  In  vain 
have  they  wasted  their  ink,  their  time,  and  their  read- 
ers' patience,  on  the  theme.  Here  lies  the  true  Athens 
of  America,  unknown  and  unnoticed  by  the  learned, 
who  are  always  looking  for  Babylon  at  Nineveh,  and 
Nineveh  at  Babylon ;  and  wasting  centuries  of  spec- 
ulation in  searching  for  something  right  under  their 
nose,  like  the  great  bookworm  Magliabecchi,  who 
spent  three  days  in  looking  for  a  pen,  which  he  car- 
ried in  his  mouth  all  the  time. 

What  is  it  constitutes  the  identity  of  a  man  ?     His 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       147 

name.  And  what,  we  would  ask,  constitutes  the  iden- 
tity of  a  city?  The  same.  Would  New  York  be 
New  York,  or  Albany,  Albany  —  by  any  other  name  ? 
and  would  any  thing  be  necessary  to  change  New 
York  into  Albany,  and  Albany  into  New  Y^ork,  except 
to  exchange  their  names  ?  What  nonsense  is  it  then 
for  people  to  be  denying  that  Athens  is  Athens,  and 
not  Boston,  Philadelphia,  or  New  York,  which  had 
better  be  content  with  their  own  true  baptismal  names, 
than  to  be  usurping  those  of  other  cities.  We  trust 
we  have  settled  this  question  forever,  and  that,  here- 
after, these  great  overgrown,  upstart  cities  will  leave 
our  little  Athens  in  the  undisturbed  possession  of  its 
name  and  honours.  If  any  city  of  the  United  States 
could  dispute  this  matter  without  blushing,  it  would 
assuredly  be  New  York,  which  has  a  "  Pantheon,"  for 
vending  oysters  ;  an  "  Acropolis,"  for  ready-made  linen ; 
an  "  Athenian  Company,"  for  manufacturing  coarse 
woollens;  and  a  duck-pond,  called  the  Piraeus.  Nor 
are  Boston  and  Philadelphia  without  very  specious 
claims;  the  former  having  an  Athenaeum,  and  a  mar- 
ket-house w^ith  a  front  in  imitation  of  the  Temple  of 
JMinerva,  because  Minerva  is  the  goddess  of  wisdom, 
and  all  market-women  are  thrifty,  or  in  common 
acceptation,  wise ;  while  the  latter  has  its  two  magnifi- 
cent fanes  of  Plutus,  god  of  paper-money,  he  being 
the  only  Pagan  divinity  to  whom  the  Christians  erect 
temples. 

KAATSKILL. 

Those  who  are  fond  of  climbing  mountains  in  a 
hot  day,  and  looking  down  till  their  heads  turn,  must 
land  at  the  village  of  Kaatskill,  whence  they  can  pro- 


148  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

cure  a  conveyance  to  the  hotel  at  Pine  Orchard,  three 
thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  river,  and  have 
the  pleasure  of  sleeping  under  blankets  in  the  dog- 
days.  Here  the  tourist  may  enjoy  a  prospect  of 
unbounded  extent  and  magnificence,  and  receive  a  les- 
son of  the  insignificance  of  all  created  things.  Stand- 
ing near  the  verge  of  the  cliff,  he  looks  down,  and  no 
object  strikes  his  view,  except  at  a  distance  of  fifteen 
hundred  feet  below.  Crawling  there,  man  is  but  an 
atom,  hardly  visible ;  the  ox  is  but  a  mouse ;  and  the 
sheep  are  little  white  specks  in  the  fields,  which  them- 
selves are  no  bigger  than  the  glasses  of  a  pair  of  green 
spectacles.  The  traveller  may  judge  of  the  insignifi- 
cance even  of  the  most  stately  objects,  when  told  that 
a  fashionable  lady's  hat  and  feathers  dwindles  in  the 
distance  to  the  size  of  a  moderate  mushroom !  It  is, 
we  trust,  needless  to  caution  the  tourist  against  fall- 
ing down  this  dizzy  stec]),  as  in  all  probability  he 
would  come  to  some  harm. 

There  are  two  cascades  not  far  from  the  Pine  Or- 
chard, which  want  nothing  but  a  little  more  water  to 
be  wonderfully  sublime.  Generally  there  is  no  water 
at  all,  but  the  proper  application  of  half  a  dollar  will 
set  it  running  presently. 

"  Music*  has  charms  to  soothe  the  savage  breast, 
To  raise  floodgates,  and  make  the  waters  flow." 

Messrs.  Wall  and  Cole,  t^vo  fine  artists,  admirable 
in  different,  we  might  almost  say,  opposite,  styles,  have 
illustrated  the  scenery  of  the  Kaatskill  by  more  than 
one  picture  of  singular  excellence.  We  should  like  to 
see  such  pictures  gracing  the  drawing-rooms  of  the 

*  Music  —  figurative  for  the  jingling  of  silver  — the  only  modern  music 
that  works  such  miracles. 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  149 

wealthy,  instead  of  the  imported  trumpery  of  British 
naval-fights,  or  coloured  engravings,  and,  above  all,  in 
the  place  of  that  vulgar,  tasteless,  and  inelegant  accu- 
mulation of  gilded  finery,  which  costs  more  than  a 
dozen  fine  landscapes.  These  lovers  of  cut-glass 
lamps,  rose-wood  sofas,  and  convex  mirrors,  have  yet 
to  learn  that  a  single  bust  or  picture  of  a  master 
adorns  and  enriches  the  parlour  of  a  gentleman,  in  the 
eyes  of  a  well-bred  person,  a  thousand  times  more 
than  the  spoils  of  half  a  dozen  fashionable  ware- 
houses. 

But,  after  all,  there  is  nothing  in  this  world  like  a 
good  appetite  and  plenty  of  good  things  to  satisfy,  or 
rather  satiate,  it ;  for  merely  to  satisfy  the  appetite  is 
to  treat  it  as  one  would  that  of  a  horse.  In  this 
respect,  and  this  only  in  our  estimation,  are  the  tops 
of  high  mountains  entitled  to  consideration.  It  is 
amazing  what  a  glorious  propensity  to  eating  is  gen- 
erated by  the  keen  air  of  these  respectable  protuber- 
ances. People  have  been  known  to  eat  up  every  thing 
in  the  house  at  a  meal,  and  report  says  that  a  fat 
waiter  once  disappeared  in  a  very  mysterious  manner. 
The  stomach  expands  with  the  majesty  and  expan- 
sion of  the  prospect,  to  a  capacity  equally  majestic, 
and  the  worthy  landlord  at  the  Pine  Orchard  (between 
ourselves)  has  assured  us  that  he  has  known  a  sickly 
young  lady,  who  was  travelling  for  an  appetite,  dis- 
cuss venison  for  breakfast  like  an  alderman.  Certain 
half-starved  critics,  will,  without  doubt,  sharpen  their 
wits  as  sharp  as  their  appetites,  and,  putting  gray 
goose-lance  in  rest,  tilt  at  us  terribly,  for  thus  exalting 
the  accomplishment  of  eating  above  all  others,  and 
inciting  people   to  inordinate  feats   of  the   trencher. 


150  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

But  we  will  shut  their  mouths  at  once  and  forever, 
by  asking  a  simple  question,  —  whether  the  sine  qua 
noil  of  rich  and  idle  people's  comfort  and  happiness 
is  not  exercise,  without  which  they  cannot  enjoy  either 
their  wealth  or  their  leisure  ?  Having  answered  this 
question,  we  will  ask  them  another,  to  wit :  whether 
there  be  any  exercise,  not  to  say  hard  work,  equal  to 
that  which  the  inward  and  outward  man  undergoes 
in  the  final  disposal  of  a  sumptuous  dinner  or  supper? 
How  he  puffs,  and  blows,  and  sighs,  and  snoozes,  and, 
heaven  forgive  us!  belches,  —  and  twists  and  turns, 
enjoying  neither  stillness  nor  motion,  until  he  has 
quieted  this  mighty  mass  of  ingredients.  In  short,  it 
is  the  hardest  exercise  in  the  world,  and  of  course 
must  be  highly  beneficial  to  health.  This  is  what 
constitutes  the  unrivalled  excellence  of  eating,  and 
its  superiority  over  all  other  carnal  delights;  since  we 
have  the  pleasures  of  taste  in  the  first  place,  and,  in 
the  second,  the  benefit  of  real  training  to  prepare  us 
for  a  new  meal.  Hence  it  was,  that  a  famous  eating 
philosopher,  hearing  a  peasant  grumbling  that  he 
could  not,  like  him,  live  without  work,  replied  in  the 
following  impromptu  — 

"  I  labour  to  digest  one  dinner,  more 
Than  you,  you  blockhead,  do,  to  earn  a  score." 

"  The  town  of  Kaatskill,  and  the  neighbouring 
country,"  observes  Alderman  Janson  in  his  manu- 
script ana,  "  is  the  seat  of  many  Dutch  families,  w^hose 
ancestors  settled  there  in  the  olden  time.  Honest,  in- 
dustrious, and  sober  —  what  a  noble  trio  of  virtues! 
—  they  pursue  the  even  tenor  of  their  way,  and  would 
continue  to  do  so  for  generations  to  come,  were  it 
not  for  the  late  attempts  to  corrupt  them  with  canals 


THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  151 

and  great  state-roads ;  and,  above  all,  by  locating  a 
fashionable  hotel  in  the  very  centre  of  their  strong- 
hold, the  Kaatskill  Mountain.  Since  the  introductioa 
of  these  pestilent  novelties,  divers  rebellious  move- 
ments against  the  good  old  customs  have  been  no- 
ticed. It  is  not  long  since,  that  several  old  ladies, 
whose  descent  ought  to  have  forever  saved  them  from 
the  temptation  of  such  enormities,  have  introduced 
the  fashion  of  drinking  tea  by  candle-light ;  and  that 
a  young  fellow  —  a  genuine  descendant  of  Rip  Van 
Winkle  —  being  out  shooting,  met  a  Dutch  damsel  in 
a  fashionable  bonnet,  whereat  he  was  so  frightened 
that  he  fired  his  gun  at  random,  and  ran  home  to  tell 
his  mother  that  he  had  seen  a  strange  wild  beast,  that 
looked,  for  all  the  world,  "  like  I  don't  know  what." 
It  is  a  sore  thing  to  see  the  venerable  customs  of 
antiquity  thus  gradually  beaten  from  their  last  in- 
trenchments  in  the  mountains.  All  this  comes  of 
steam-boats,  manufactories,  and  other  horrible  enor- 
mities of  this  improving  age." 

HUDSON. 

"  A  very  respectable  town,  or  rather,  city,"  says 
Alderman  Janson :  "  so  called  after  the  renowned 
Hendrik  Hudson  of  blessed  memory.  It  is  opposite 
to  Athens,  and  ought  to  have  been  noticed  immedi- 
ately after  it.  But  if  the  traveller  wishes  particularly 
to  view  the  city,  he  has  only  to  mention  his  desire, 
and  the  steam-boat  will  turn  back  with  him,  for  they 
are  very  obliging.  Hudson  furnishes  one  of  those  ex- 
amples of  rapid  growth,  so  common,  and  so  peculiar, 
to  our  country.     It  goes  back  no  farther  than  1786, 


152  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

and  is  said  now  to  contain  nearly  two  thousand  in- 
habitants. But  towns,  like  children,  are  very  apt  to 
grow  more  in  the  first  few  years,  than  in  all  their  lives 
after.  Hudson,  however,  has  a  bank,  which  is  a  sort 
of  wet-nurse  to  these  little  towns,  giving  them  too 
often  a  precocious  growth,  which  is  followed  by  a 
permanent  debility.  The  town  is  beautifully  situated, 
and  the  environs  are  of  the  most  picturesque  and  ro- 
mantic description.  There  are  several  pretty  country- 
seats  in  the  neighbourhood.  Here  ends,  according  to 
the  law  of  Nature,  the  ship-navigation  of  the  river; 
but,  by  a  law  of  the  Legislature,  a  company  has  been 
incorporated  with  a  capital  of  one  million  of  dollars  — 
how  easy  it  is  to  coin  money  in  this  way  I  —  to  make 
a  canal  to  New  Baltimore;  for  what  purpose,  only 
legislative  wisdom  can  explain.  There  was  likewise 
an  incorporated  company,  to  build  a  mud-machine 
for  deepening  the  river.  But  the  river  is  no  deeper 
than  it  was,  and  the  canal  to  New  Baltimore  is  not 
made,  probably  because  the  million  of  dollars  is  not 
forthcoming.  One  may  ])ay  too  dear  for  a  canal,  as 
well  as  for  a  whistle.  That  canals  are  far  better  than 
rivers  is  not  to  be  doubted  ;  but,  as  we  get  our  rivers 
for  nothing,  and  pay  pretty  dearly  for  our  canals,  I 
would  beg  leave  to  represent  in  behalf  of  the  poor 
rivers,  that  they  are  entitled  to  some  little  considera- 
tion, if  it  is  only  on  the  score  of  coming  as  free  gifts. 
Hudson  is  said  to  be  very  much  infested  with  politi- 
cians, a  race  of  men,  who,  though  they  have  never 
been  classed  among  those  who  live  by  their  own  wits 
and  the  little  wit  of  their  neighbours,  certainly  belong 
to  the  genus." 

From  hence  to  Albany  the  Hudson  gradually  de- 


THE   NEW   MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.  153 

creases  in  magnitude,  changing  its  character  of  a 
mighty  river  for  that  of  a  pleasant  pastoral  stream. 
The  high  banks  gradually  subside  into  rich  flats,  por- 
tentous of  Dutchmen,  who  light  on  them  as  certainly 
as  do  the  snipes  and  plovers.  "  Wisely  despising," 
observes  Alderman  Janson,  "  the  barren  mountains 
which  are  only  made  to  look  at,  they  passed  on  up 
the  river  from  Fort  Amsterdam,  till  they  arrived  here- 
.  abouts,  and  here  they  pitched  their  tents.  Their  de- 
I  scendants  still  retain  possession  of  the  seats  of  their 
I  ancestors,  though  sorely  beset,  by  the  march  of  the 
i  human  mind  and  the  progress  of  public  improvement 
on  one  hand,  and  on  the  other  by  interlopers  from  the 
modern  Scythia,  the  cradle  of  the  human  race  in  the 
new  world,  Connecticut.  These  last,  by  their  pesti- 
I  lent  scholarship,  and  mischievous  contrivances  of 
patent  ploughs,  patent  threshing-machines,  patent 
corn-shellers,  and  patent  churns,  for  the  encourage- 
ment of  domestic  industry,  have  gone  near  to  over- 
set all  the  statutes  of  St.  Nicholas.  The  honest 
burghers  of  Coeymans,  Coxsackie,  and  New  Paltz, 
still  hold  out  manfully ;  but,  alas !  the  women  —  the 
women  are  prone  to  apostasy,  and  hanker  after  novel- 
ties. A  Dutch  damsel  can't,  for  her  heart,  resist  a 
Connecticut  school-master  with  his  rosy  cheeks  and 
store  of  book-learning ;  and  even  honest  yffrouw  her- 
self chuckles  a  little  amatory  Dutch  at  his  approach, 
simpering  mightily  thereat,  and  stroking  down  her 
apron.  A  goose  betrayed  —  no,  I  am  wrong  —  a 
goose  once  saved  the  capitol  of  Rome ;  and  it  is  to 
be  feared  a  woman  will  finally  betray  the  citadels  of 
Coeymans,  Coxsackie,  and  New  Paltz,  to  the  school- 
masters of  Connecticut,  who  circumvent  them  with 


154  THE   NEW  MIREOR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

outlandish  scholarship.  These  speculations,"  quoth 
the  worthy  alderman,*  "  remind  me  of  the  mishap  of 
my  unfortunate  great  uncle,  Douw  Van  Wezel,  who 
sunk  under  the  star  of  one  of  these  errant  gram- 
marians. 

"  Douw  and  little  Alida  Vander  Spiegle  had  been 
play-mates  since  their  infancy  —  I  was  going  to  say 
school-mates,  but  at  that  time  there  was  no  such  thing 
as  a  school,  so  far  as  I  can  learn,  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, to  teach  the  young  varlets  to  chalk  naughty 
words  on  walls  and  fences,  which  is  all  that  learning 

*  We  ought,  long  before  this,  to  have  apprised  tlie  reader,  that  Alder- 
man Nicliolas  Nicodeinus  Janson  was  the  flower  of  the  magistracy  of  Cox- 
sackie,  and  died  full  of  years  and  lionours,  on  his  patron  8t.  Nicholas'  day, 
in  the  year  of  our  Lord  one  thousand  eiglit  hundred  and  twenty-seven.  He 
was  our  great-uncle  by  the  mother's  side,  and  many  are  the  happy  days  we 
remember  to  liave  passed  in  liis  honest  old  Dutch  house,  which,  according 
to  custom,  has  lately  been  turned  into  a  tavern.  lie  Avas  indisjnitably  the 
greatest  scholar  of  tile  age,  in  (he  opinion  of  his  neighbours,  wiio  ought  to 
know  him  best,  and  as  compared  with  divers  great  authors  of  the  present 
time,  of  whom  he  was  wont  to  sa}',  that  he  furnished  one  with  all  the  botany, 
and  anotlier  with  all  the  geology,  he  ever  liad  in  his  life.  lie  left  behind 
him  twenty-six  large  volumes  of  manuscripts,  which  he  devised  to  the  writer 
of  this  book,  as  he  expressed  it,  "  In  special  token  of  my  atiectionate  remem- 
brance, considering  them  as  by  far  the  most  valuable  of  my  possessions."  The 
rest  of  the  heirs  never  disputed  the  legacy ;  and,  what  is  quite  unaccounta- 
ble, the  executors  turned  it  over  to  us  with  the  utmost  promptitude,  while 
some  other  legatees  remain  unpaid  to  this  day.  These  gentlemen  will  be 
astonished,  if  not  mortified,  to  hear,  that  we  have  lately  been  offered  more 
for  these  invaluable  manuscripts  than  all  the  rest  of  the  worthy  alderman's 
property  is  worth.  But  we  disdain  to  sell  what  was  bestowed  upon  us 
freely;  and  it  is  our  intention,  when  we  are  grown  too  old  to  travel,  to  pub- 
lish the  w^hole  twenty-six  volumes,  under  the  title  of  "Reminiscences,"  at 
our  own  expense,  charging  the  public  nothing  for  the  insides,  and  only  two 
dollars  a  volume  for  the  binding:  —  to  the  which  course  we  are  vehemently 
incited  by  the  example  of  a  certain  worthy  of  Coxsackie,  who,  being  desirous 
the  public  should  enjoy  the  full  benefit  of  a  famous  nostrum  of  his  for  the 
cure  of  all  things,  did  actually  give  away  the  said  nostrum  for  nothing,  only 
charging  four  shillings  for  the  bottles:  —  whereby  all  the  country  was  cured, 
without  any  expense,  and  the  worthy  philanthropist  got  rich,  with  a  clear 
conscience. 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       155 

is  good  for,  for  aught  I  see.  Douw  was  no  scholar, 
so  there  was  no  danger  of  his  getting  into  the  state- 
prison  for  forgery;  but  it  requires  little  learning  to 
fall  in  love.  Alida  had  however  staid  a  whole  winter 
in  York,  where  she  learned  to  talk  crooked  English, 
and  cock  her  pretty  little  pug-nose  at  our  good  old 
customs.  They  were  the  only  offspring  of  their 
respective  parents,  whose  farms  lay  side  by  side, 
squinting  plainly  at  matrimony  between  the  young 
people.  Douw  and  Alida  went  to  church  together 
every  Sunday ;  wandered  into  the  church-yard,  where 
Alida  read  the  epitaphs  for  him ;  and  it  was  the  talk 
of  every-body  that  it  would  certainly  be  a  match. 
Douw  was  a  handsome  fellow  for  a  Dutchman,  though 
he  lacked  that  effeminate  ruddiness  which  seduces 
poor  ignorant  women.  He  had  a  stout  frame,  a 
bluish  complexion,  straight  black  hair,  eyes  of  the 
colour  of  indigo,  and  as  honest  a  pair  of  old-fashioned 
mahogany-baluster  legs,  as  you  would  wish  to  see 
under  a  man.  It  was  worth  while  to  make  good  legs 
then,  when  every  man  wore  breeches,  and  some  of  the 
women  too,  if  report  is  to  be  credited.  Alida  was 
the  prettiest  little  Dutch  damsel  that  ever  had  her 
stocking  filled  with  cakes  on  new-year's  eve,  by  the 
blessed  St.  Nicholas.  I  will  not  describe  her,  lest  the 
whole  army  of  my  readers  should  fall  in  love  with 
her,  or  at  all  events  weep  themselves  into  Saratoga 
fountains,  when  they  come  to  hear  of  the  disastrous 
fate  of  poor  Douw,  whose  destiny  it  was  —  but  lot  us 
have  no  anticipations ;  sufficient  for  the  day  is  the 
evil  thereof. 

"  It  was  new-year's  eve,  and  Douw  was  invited  to 
isee  out  the  old  year  at  Judge  Vander  Spiegle's,  in  the 


156  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

honest  old  Dutch  way,  under  the  special  patronage  of 
St.  Nicholas,  to  whom  whoever  fails  in  due  honour 
and  allegiance,  this  be  his  fate :  never  to  sip  the  dew 
from  the  lips  of  the  lass  he  loveth  best,  on  new-year's 
eve,  or  new-year's  morn ;  never  to  taste  of  hot  spiced 
Santa  Cruz  ;  and  never  to  know  the  delights  of  mince- 
pies  and  sausages,  swimming  in  the  sauce  of  honest 
mirth  and  home-felt  jollity.  St.  Nicholas!,  thrice- 
jolly  St.  Nicholas !  Bacchus  of  Christian  Dutchmen, 
king  of  good  fellows,  patron  of  holiday  fare,  inspirer 
of  simple  frolic  and  unsophisticated  happiness,  saint 
of  all  saints  that  deck  the  glorious  calendar  I  —  thou 
that  first  awakenest  the  hopes  of  the  prattling  infant; 
dawnest  anticipated  happiness  on  the  school-boy  ;  and 
brightenest  the  wintry  hours  of  manhood  —  if  I  forget 
thee  whatever  betide,  or  whatever  fantastic,  heartless 
follies  may  usurp  the  place  of  thy  simple  ceh'bration, 
may  I  lose  with  the  recollection  of  past  pleasures  the 
anticipation  of  pleasures  to  come,  yawn  at  a  tea-party, 
petrify  at  a  soiree,  and  perish  finally,  overwhelmed,  in 
a  deluge  of  whip-syllabub  and  lloating-island !  Thrice, 
and  three  times  thrice,  jolly  St.  Nicholas!  On  this, 
the  first  day  of  the  new  year,  1826,  with  an  honest 
reverence  and  a  full  bumper  of  cherry-bounce,  I  salute 
thee!  lo,  St.  Nicholas!  May  thy  sleigh-bells  tinkle 
for  ever ! 

"  There  were  glorious  doings  at  the  judge's  among 
the  young  folks,  and  the  old  ones  too,  for  that  matter, 
till  one  or  two  or  perhaps  three  in  the  morning,  when 
the  visitors  got  into  their  sleighs  and  skirred  away 
home,  leaving  Douw  and  the  fair  Alida  alone,  or  as 
good  as  alone,  for  the  judge  and  the  yffrouw,  were  as 
sound  as  a  church  in  the  two  chimney-corners.     If 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  157 

wine,  and  French  liqueurs,  and  such  trumpery,  make 
a  man  gallant  and  adventurous,  what  will  not  hot 
spiced  Santa  Cruz  achieve !  Douw  was  certainly 
somewhat  flustered  —  perhaps  it  might  be  predicated 
of  him  that  he  was  as  it  were  a  little  tipsy.  Certain 
it  is,  he  waxed  brave  as  a  Dutch  lion.  I'll  not  sv^^ear 
but  that  he  put  his  arm  round  her  waist,  and  kissed 
the  little  Dutch  girl  —  but  I  ivill  swear  positively  that 
before  the  parties  knew  whether  they  were  standing 
on  their  heads  or  feet,  they  had  exchanged  vows 
and  become  irrevocably  engaged.  Whereupon  Douw 
waked  the  old  judge,  and  asked  his  consent,  on  the 
spot.  "  Yaw,  yaw  "  —  yawned  the  judge,  and  fell  fast 
asleep  again  in  a  twinkling.  Nothing  but  the  last 
trumpet  would  have  roused  the  yffrouw  till  dawn. 

"  In  the  morning,  the  good  yffrouw  was  let  into  the 
affair,  and  began  to  bestir  herself  accordingly.  I  can- 
not count  the  sheets,  and  table-cloths,  and  towels,  the 
good  woman  mustered  out,  nor  describe  the  prepara- 
tions made  for  the  expected  wedding.  There  was  a 
cake  baked,  as  big  as  Kaatskill  Mountain,  and  mince- 
pies  enough  to  cover  it.  There  were  cates  of  a  hun- 
dred ignoble  names,  and  sweetmeats  enough  to  kill 
a  whole  village.  All  was  preparation,  expectation, 
and  prognostication.  A  Dutch  tailor  had  constructed 
Douw  a  suit  of  snuff-colour,  that  made  him  look  like 
a  great  roll  of  leaf-tobacco ;  and  a  York  milliner  had 
exercised  her  skill  in  the  composition  of  a  wedding- 
dress  for  Alida,  that  made  the  hair  of  the  girls  of 
;  Coeymans  and  Coxsackie  stand  on  end.  All  was 
ready,  and  the  day  appointed.  But,  alas  I  I  wonder 
no  one  has  yet  had  the  sagacity  to  observe,  and  pro- 
claim to  the  world,  that  all   things   in   this  life  are 


158  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

uncertain,  and  that  the  anticipations  of  youth  are 
often  disappointed. 

"Just  three  weeks  before  the  wedding,  there  ap- 
peared in  the  village  of  Coxsackie  a  young  fellow, 
dressed  in  a  three-cornered  cocked-hat,  (with  a  cpieue 
at  least  a  yard  long  hanging  from  under  it,  tied  up  in 
an  eel  skin),  a  spruce  blue  coat,  (not  much  the  worse 
for  wear),  a  red  waistcoat,  corduroy  breeches,  hand- 
some cotton  stockings  with  a  pair  of  good  legs  in 
them,  and  pumps  with  silver  buckles.  His  arrival 
was  like  the  shock  of  an  earthquake,  he  being  the 
first  stranger  that  had  appeared  within  the  memory 
of  man.  He  was  of  a  goodly  height,  well-shaped, 
and  had  a  pair  of  rosy  cheeks,  which  no  Dutch  dam- 
sel ever  could  resist,  for,  to  say  the  truth,  our  Dutch 
lads  are  apt  to  be  a  little  dusky  in  the  epidermis. 

"  He  gave  out  that  he  was  come  to  set  up  a  school, 
and  teach  the  little  chubby  Dutch  boys  and  girls 
English.  The  men  set  their  faces  against  this  mon- 
strous innovation  ;  but  the  women  I  the  women  I  they 
always  will  run  after  novelty,  and  they  ran  after  tlie 
school-master,  his  red  cheeks,  and  his  red  waistcoat. 
Yffrouw  Vander  Spiegle  contested  the  empire  of  the 
world  within  doors  with  his  honour  the  judge,  and 
bore  a  divided  reign.  She  was  smitten  with  a  desire 
to  become  a  blue-stocking  herself,  or,  at  least,  that 
her  daughter  should.  The  yffrouw  was  the  bell- 
wether of  fashion  in  the  village  ;  of  course  many  other 
yffrouws  followed  her  example,  and  in  a  little  time 
the  lucky  school-master  was  surrounded  by  half  the 
grown-up  damsels  of  Coxsackie. 

"  Alida  soon  became  distinguished  as  his  favourite 
scholar ;  she  was  the  prettiest,  the  richest  girl  in  the 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  159 

school ;  and  she  could  talk  English,  which  the  others 
were  only  just  learning.  He  taught  her  to  read 
poetry  —  he  taught  her  to  talk  with  lier  eyes  —  to 
write  love-letters  —  and,  at  last,  to  love.  Douw  was 
a  lost  man,  the  moment  the  school-master  came 
into  the  village.  He  first  got  the  blind  side  of  the 
daughter,  and  then  of  the  yfFrouw :  but  he  found  it 
rather  a  hard  matter  to  get  the  blind  side  of  the 
judge,  who  had  heard  from  his  brother  in  Albany, 
what  pranks  these  Connecticut  boys  were  playing 
there.  He  discouraged  the  school-master;  and  he 
encouraged  Douw  to  press  his  suit,  which  Alida  had 
put  off,  and  put  off,  from  time  to  time.  She  was 
sick  —  and  not  ready  —  and  indifferent  —  and  some- 
times as  cross  as  a  little  Fury.  Douw  smoked  his 
pipe  harder  than  ever  at  her;  but  she  resisted  like  a 
heroine. 

"  In  those  times  of  cheap  simplicity,  it  was  the 
custom  of  the  country  for  the  school-master  to  board 
in  turn  with  the  parents  of  his  scholars,  a  week  or  a 
fortnight  at  a  time,  and  it  is  recorded  of  these  learned 
Thebans,  that  they  always  staid  longest  where  there 
was  a  pretty  daughter,  and  plenty  of  pies  and  sweet- 
meats. The  time  at  last  came  round,  when  it  was 
the  school-master's  turn  to  spend  the  allotted  fortnight 
with  Judge  Vander  Spiegle,  sorely  to  the  gloomy  fore- 
bod  ements  of  Douw,  who  began  to  have  a  strong  sus- 
picion of  the  cause  of  Alida's  coldness.  The  school- 
master knew  which  side  his  bread  was  buttered,  and 
laid  close  siege  to  the  yfTrouw,  by  praising  her  good 
things,  exalting  her  consequence,  and  depreciating 
that  of  her  neighbours.  Nor  did  he  neglect  the 
;  (laughter  whom  he  plied  with  poetry,  melting  looks, 


160  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

significant  squeezes,  and  all  that  —  although  all  that 
was  quite  unnecessary,  for  she  was  ready  to  run  away 
with  him  at  any  time.  But  this  did  not  suit  our 
schemer:  he  might  be  divorced  from  the  acres,  if  he 
married  without  the  consent  of  the  judge.  He  how- 
ever continued  to  administer  fuel  to  the  flame,  and 
never  missed  abusing  poor  Douw  to  his  face,  wiihout 
the  latter  being  the  wiser  for  it,  he  not  understanding 
a  word  of  English. 

"  By  degrees  he  opened  the  matter  to  the  yffrouw, 
who  liked  it  exceedingly,  for  she  was,  as  we  said  be- 
fore, inclined  to  the  mysteries  of  blue-stockingism, 
and  was  half  in  love  with  his  red  waistcoat  and  red 
cheeks.  P'inally,  she  told  him,  in  an  ingenuous  way, 
that  as  there  were  two  to  one  in  his  favour,  and  the 
old  judge  would,  she  knew,  never  consent  to  the  mar- 
riage while  he  could  help  it,  the  best  thing  he  could 
do  was  to  go  and  get  married  as  soon  as  jiossible, 
and  she  would  bear  him  out.  That  very  night  Douw 
became  a  disconsolate  widower,  although,  poor  fellow, 
he  did  not  know  of  it  till  the  next  morning.  The 
judge  stormed  and  swore,  and  the  yffrouw  talked,  till 
at  length  he  allowed  them  to  come  and  live  in  the 
house,  but  with  the  proviso  that  they  were  never  to 
speak  to  him,  nor  he  to  them.  A  little  grandson  in 
process  of  time  healed  all  these  internal  divisions. 
They  christened  him  Adrian  Vander  Spiegle,  after 
his  grandfather,  and,  when  it  came  to  pass  that  the 
old  patriarch  died,  the  estate  passed  from  the  Vander 
Spiegles  to  the  Longfellows,  after  the  manner  of 
men. 

"  Poor  Douw  grew  melancholy,  and  pondered  oft- 
times  whether  he  should  bring  his  action  for  breach 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       161 

of  promise,  fly  the  country  forever,  turn  Methodist, 
or  marry  under  the  nose  of  the  faithless  Alida,  'on 
purpose  to  spite  her.'  He  finally  decided  on  the  lat- 
ter, married  a  little  Dutch  brunette  from  Kinderhook, 
and  prospered  mightily  in  posterity,  as  did  also  his 
neighbour,  Philo  Longfellow.  But  it  was  observed 
that  the  little  Van  Wezels  and  the  little  Longfellows 
never  met  without  fighting;  and  that,  as  they  grew 
up,  this  hostility  gathered  additional  bitterness.  In 
process  of  time  the  village  became  divided  into  two 
factions,  which  gradually  spread  wherever  the  Yankees 
and  the  Dutch  mixed  together ;  and  finally,  like  the 
feuds  of  the  Guelphs  and  Ghibellines,  divided  the 
land  for  almost  a  hundred  miles  round." 

ALBANY. 

Leaving  Coxsackie,  the  traveller  gradually  ap- 
proaches those  rich  little  islands  and  Jlats^  beloved 
by  the  honest  Dutchmen  of  all  parts  of  the  world,  in 
the  midst  of  which  are  seen  the  long  comfortable 
brick  mansions  of  the  Cuylers,  the  Schuylers,  the  Van 
Rensselaers,  and  others  of  the  patroons  of  ancient 
times.  "  I  never  see  one  of  these,"  quoth  Alderman 
Janson,  "  w^ithout  picturing  to  myself  the  plentiful 
breakfasts,  solid  dinners,  and  manifold  evening  re- 
pasts, which  have  been,  and  still  are,  discussed  in 
these  comfortable  old  halls,  guiltless  of  folding  doors 
and  marble  mantel-pieces,  and  all  that  modern  trum- 
pery which  starves  the  kitchen  to  decorate  the  par- 
lour, and  robs  the  stranger  of  his  hospitable  welcome 
for  the  sake  of  glitter  and  trash.  I  never  think  of 
the  picture  so  delightfully  drawn  by  Mrs.  Grant,  in  the 

11 


162  THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

*  Memoirs  of  an  American  Lady,'  of  the  noble  pa- 
triarchal state  of  'Uncle  Schuyler'  and  his  amiable 
wife,  without  contrasting  it  with  the  empty,  vapid, 
mean,  and  selfish  pageantry  of  the  present  time,  which 
satiates  itself  with  the  paltry  vanity  of  display,  and 
stoops  to  all  the  dirty  drudgery  of  brokerage  and  specu- 
lation, to  gather  wealth,  only  to  excite  the  gaping  won- 
der, or  secret  envy,  of  vulgar  rivals.  By  St.  Nicholas, 
the  patron  of  good  fellows,  but  the  march  of  the  hu- 
man intellect  is  sometimes  like  that  of  a  crab,  back- 
wards ! " 

"  The  city  of  Albany,"  continues  the  worthy  alder- 
man, "  was  founded,  not  by  Mars,  Neptune,  Minerva, 
nor  Vulcan,  nor  by  any  of  the  wandering  vagabond 
gods  of  ancient  times.  Neither  docs  it  owe  its  origin 
to  a  runaway  hero  like  ^neas,  nor  to  a  runaway 
debtor,  like  a  place  that  shall  be  nameless.  Its  first 
settlers  were  a  race  of  portly  burghers  from  old  Hol- 
land, who,  sailing  up  the  river  in  search  of  a  resting- 
place,  and  observing  how  the  rich  flats  invited  them 
as  it  were  to  their  fat  and  fruitful  bowers,  landed 
thereabouts,  lighted  their  pipes,  and  began  to  build 
their  dwellings  without  saying  one  word.  Tradition 
also  imports,  that  they  were  somewhat  incited  to  this 
by  seeing  divers  large  and  stately  sturgeons  jumping 
up  out  of  the  river,  as  they  are  wont  to  do  most  in- 
continently in  these  parts.  These  sturgeons  are, 
(when  properly  disguised  by  cookery  so  that  you 
cannot  tell  what  they  may  be),  most  savoury  and 
excellent  food,  although  there  is  no  truth  in  the  story 
hatched  by  the  pestilent  descendants  of  Philo  Long- 
fellow, that  the  flesh  of  the  sturgeon  is  called  Albany 
beef,  and  that  it  is  sometimes  served  up  at  Rockwell's, 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       163 

Cruttenden's,  and  other  favourite  resorts  of  tourists, 
as  veal-cutlets.  Out  upon  such  slanders  I  By  St. 
Nicholas,  the  Longfellows  lie  most  immoderately. 
The  worthy  burghers  of  Albany  never  deceived  a 
Christian  in  their  lives.     As  their  old  proverb  says : 

*  'Twould  make  an  honest  Dutchman  laugh, 
To  say  a  sturgeon  is  a  calf.' 

"  The  Indians,  according  to  the  learned  Knicker- 
bocker, perceiving  that  the  new-comers  were,  like 
themselves,  great  smokers,  took  a  vast  liking  to  them, 
and  brought  out  the  pipe  of  peace,  without  saying 
a  word,  and  presently  a  cloud  of  smoke  overspread  the 
land,  like  the  haze  of  the  Indian  summer.  An  old  chief 
at  length  looked  at  Mynheer  Van  Wezel,  the  leader 
of  the  party,  and  gave  a  significant  grunt.  Mynheer 
Van  Wezel  looked  at  the  old  Indian  and  gave  another 
grunt  equally  significant.  Thus  they  came  to  a  mu- 
tual good-understanding,  and  a  treaty  was  concluded, 
without  exchanging  a  single  word,  or  any  other  cere- 
mony than  a  good  sociable  smoking-party.  Some  of 
the  descendants  of  Philo  Longfellow  insinuate  that 
Mynheer  Van  Wezel  took  an  opportunity  of  present- 
ing his  pistol,  well  charged  with  Schiedam,  to  the  old 
chief  and  his  followers,  and  that  it  operated  marvel- 
lously in  bringing  about  the  treaty.  But  there  is  not 
a  word  of  truth  in  the  story.  This  good-understanding 
was  produced  by  the  magic  virtues  of  silence  and 
tobacco.  This  example  shows  how  easy  it  is  to  be 
good  friends,  if  people  will  only  hold  their  tongues ; 
and  it  moreover  forever  rescues  the  excellent  practice 
of  smoking  from  the  dull  jests  of  effeminate  puppies, 
who  affect  to  call  it  vulgar.  If  modern  negotiators 
would  only  sit  down  and  smoke  a  familiar  pipe  to- 


164  THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

gether  every  day  for  five  or  six  months,  my  life  vipon 
it  there  would  be  less  ink  shed,  and  blood  shed,  too, 
in  this  world.  By  St.  Nicholas,  the  saint  of  smokers!, 
there  is  nothing  comparable  to  the  pipe,  for  soothing 
anger,  softening  down  irritation,  solacing  disappoint- 
ment, and  disposing  the  mind  to  balmy  contempla- 
tion, poetical  flights,  and  lofty  soarings  of  the  fancy ; 
insomuch  that  any  young  bard,  who  will  tie  his  shirt 
with  a  black  ribbon  and  take  to  smoking  and  drinking 
gin  and  water  like  my  Lord  Byron,  will  in  a  short 
time  write  equal  to  his  lordship,  allowing  for  acci- 
dents." 

"  Thus,"  continues  the  alderman,  "  was  the  city  of 
Albany  founded,  and  originally  called  All-horuiy,  as  the 
Dutch  people  still  pronounce  it,  from  the  bonny  river, 
the  bonny  woods,  bonny  pastures,  and  bonny  land- 
scapes by  which  it  was  environed.  But,  blessed  St. 
Nicholas  I,  how  is  it  sophisticated,  since,  by  the  pos- 
terity of  Philo  Longfellow;  by  politicians,  tourists, 
and  lobby-members ;  by  widening  streets,  building 
basins,  and  digging  canals!  The  old  Dutch  church, 
where  the  followers  of  Mynheer  Van  Wezcl  first 
offered  up  their  simple  orisons,  is  pulled  down,  and  in 
its  room  a  nondescript  with  two  tin  steeples  erected, 
wherein  they  preach  nothing  but  English.  The  young 
men  who  descend  from  the  founders  are  not  Dutch- 
men at  all,  and  the  damsels  are  nought.  Not  one  in 
a  hundred  can  read  a  Dutch  Bible !  In  a  little  while 
the  children  of  that  roving  Ishmaelite,  Philo  Long- 
fellow, will  sweep  them  from  their  inheritance,  and 
the  land  shall  know  them  no  more.  The  very  houses 
have  changed  their  position,  and  it  is  written,  that  an 
old  mansion  of  Dutch  brick  which  whilom  projected 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  165 

its  end  in  front,  on  Pearl  Street,  did  one  night  incon- 
tinently turn  its  broadside  to  the  street,  as  if  resolved 
like  its  master  to  be  in  the  fashion,  and  follow  the 
march  of  public  improvement." 

As  the  prize-poet  sings  —  corroborating  the  senti- 
ments of  the  worthy  alderman  — 

"All  things  do  change  in  this  queer  world; 
Which  world  is  topsy-turvy  hurl'd! 
Tadpoles  to  skipping  bull-frogs  turn, 
And  whales  in  lighted  candles  bum ; 
The  worm  of  yesterday,  today. 
Flies,  a  rich  buttcrtiy,  away ; 
The  city  belles  all  turn  religious, 
And  say  their  prayers  in  hats  prodigious ; 
St.  Tammany  becomes  Clintonian, 
And  Adams-men  downright  Jacksonian. 
Thus  all  our  tastes  are  wild  and  fleeting. 
And  most  of  all  our  taste  in  eating: 
I  knew  a  man —  or  rather,  savage, 
Who  went  from  ducks  *  to  beef  and  cabbage !  " 

As  Albany  is  a  sort  of  depot,  where  the  commodi- 
ties of  the  fashionable  world  are  warehoused  (as  it 
were)  a  night  or  two,  for  exportation  to  Saratoga, 
Niagara,  Montreal,  Quebec,  and  Boston,  we  shall 
here  present  to  our  readers  a  short  system  of  rules 
and  regulations,  for  detecting  good  inns,  and,  gen- 
erally, for  travelling  with  dignity  and  refinement. 

And  first,  as  to  smelling  out  a  comfortable  inn. 

Never  go  where  the  stage-drivers  or  steam-boat 
men  advise  you. 

Never  go  to  a  newly-painted  house  —  trap  for  the 
greenhorns.  A  butcher's-cart,  with  a  good  fat  butch- 
er, handing  out  turkeys,  venison,  ducks,  marbled  beef, 

*   Qucere.  —  Canvas-backs  ?  —  if  so,  there  is  no  hope  for  him. 


166  THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

celery,  and  cauliflowers,  is  the  best  sign  for  a  public- 
house. 

Never  go  to  a  hotel  that  has  a  fine  gilt-framed  pic- 
ture of  itself  hung  up  in  the  steam-boat.  Good  wine 
needs  no  bush  —  a  good  hotel  speaks  for  itself,  and 
will  be  found  out  without  a  picture. 

Always  yield  implicit  obedience  to  a  puff  in  the 
newspapers  in  praise  of  any  hotel.  It  is  a  proof  that 
the  landlord  has  been  over-civil  to  one  guest  at  the 
expense  of  all  the  others.  No  man  is  ever  particularly 
pleased  anywhere,  or  with  any  body,  unless  he  has 
received  more  attention  than  he  deserves.  Perhaps 
you  may  be  equally  favoured,  particularly  if  you  hint 
that  you  mean  to  publish  your  travels.  Even  publi- 
cans sigh  for  immortality. 

Never  seem  anxious  to  get  lodgings  at  any  particu- 
lar place.  The  landlord  will  put  you  in  the  garret  if 
you  do,  unless  you  come  in  your  own  carriage. 

If  you  have  no  servant,  always  hire  one  of  the 
smartest-dressed  fellows  of  the  steam-boat  to  carry 
your  baggage,  and  pass  him  off,  if  possible,  till  you 
are  snugly  housed  at  the  hotel,  as  your  own.  Your 
accommodations  will  be  the  better  for  it;  and  when 
the  mistake  is  discovered,  they  can't  turn  you  out  of 
your  room,  you  know. 

Grumble  at  your  accommodations  every  morning. 
It  will  make  you  appear  of  consequence,  and,  if  there 
are  better  in  the  house,  in  time  you  will  get  them. 

Take  the  first  opportunity  to  insinuate  to  the  wait- 
ers, one  at  a  time,  that,  if  they  remember  you,  you 
will  remember  them  when  you  go  away.  You  will 
have  every  soul  of  them  at  your  command.  N.  B. 
You  need  not  keep  your  promise. 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.      167 

Respecting  the  best  public-houses  in  Albany,  there 
are  conflicting  opinions.  Some  think  Rockwell's, 
some  Cruttenden's,  the  best.  We  dont  know  much 
of  Rockwell,  but  Cruttenden,  thrice-jolly  Cruttenden, 
we  pronounce  worthy  to  be  landlord  to  the  whole 
universe.  Fate  intended  him  to  keep  open  house, 
and  if  she  had  only  furnished  him  with  money  enough, 
he  would  have  done  it  at  his  own  expense,  instead  of 
that  of  other  people.  He  is  the  FalstafF  of  hosts,  for 
he  not  only  drinks  himself,  but  causes  others  to  drink, 
by  virtue  of  his  excellent  wines,  excellent  jokes,  and 
excellent  example.  However,  as  we  profess  the  most 
rigorous  impartiality,  we  give  no  opinion  whatever  on 
the  relative  merits  of  the  two  houses,  having  —  for 
which  we  hope  to  be  forgiven  —  more  than  once  got 
royally  fuddled  at  each.  If,  however,  the  traveller  is 
particular,  as  he  ought  to  be  in  these  matters,  he  has 
only  to  inquire  where  a  certain  worthy  member  from 
New  York  puts  up  during  the  session.  He  will  be 
morally  certain  of  finding  good  fare  and  good  lodg- 
ings there. 

Lastly,  never  go  away  from  a  place  without  paying 
your  bill,  unless  you  have  nothing  to  pay  it  with. 
Necessitas  non  habet,  &c.  —  A  man  must  travel  nowa- 
days, or  he  is  absolutely  nobody;  and  if  he  has  no 
money,  it  must  be  at  the  expense  of  other  people.  In 
case  you  set  out  on  d.  foray  of  this  kind,  it  is  advisable 
to  have  two  trunks,  one  a  small  one  for  yoar  own 
clothes  and  those  of  other  people,  the  other  a  strong, 
well-braced,  w^ell-riveted,  large-sized  one,  filled  with 
brick-bats.  Be  sure  to  talk  "  big  "  about  having  mar- 
ried a  rich  wife  as  ugly  as  sin,  for  the  sake  of  her 
money  ;  about  your  great  relations ;  and,  if  your  mod- 


168  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

esty  won't  permit  you  to  pass  for  a  lord,  don't  abate  a 
hair's-breadth  of  being  second  cousin  to  one.  When 
the  landlord  becomes  troublesome,  or  inattentive,  and 
begins  to  throw  out  hints  about  the  colour  of  a  man's 
money,  hire  a  gig,  take  your  little  trunk,  give  out  that 
you  are  going  to  visit  some  well-known  gentleman  in 
the  neighbourhood,  for  a  day  or  two,  and  leave  the 
great  trunk  behind  for  the  benefit  of  mine  host.  It  is 
not  expected  you  will  send  back  the  gig. 

"Albany,"  —  we  again  quote  from  the  ana  of  Al- 
derman Janson,  the  prince  of  city  magistrates  — 
"  Albany  is  the  capital  of  the  state  of  New  York,  hav- 
ing been  the  seat  of  government  for  almost  half  a 
century.  Formerly  the  legislature  met  in  New  York ; 
but  in  process  of  time  it  was  found  that  the  members, 
being  seduced  into  huge  feeding  by  the  attractions  of 
oysters,  and  turtle  and  calfs-head  soup,  did,  half  the 
time,  doze  all  through  their  afternoon  session,  and  enact 
divers  mischievous  laws,  to  the  great  detriment  of  the 
community.  Thereupon  they  resolved  to  remove  to 
Albany;  but,  alas  I,  luxury  and  dissipation  followed 
in  their  train,  so  that  after  a  while  they  fell  asleep 
oftener  than  ever,  and  passed  other  laws,  which  noth- 
ing but  their  being  fast  asleep  could  excuse.  In  my 
opinion,  it  would  tend  greatly  to  the  happiness  of  the 
community,  and  go  far  to  prevent  this  practice  of  le- 
gislating with  the  eyes  shut,  if  these  bodies  were  to 
meet  in  council  like  the  Indians,  under  the  trees  in 
the  open  air,  and  be  obliged  to  legislate,  standing. 
This  would  prevent  one  man  from  talking  all  the  rest 
to  sleep,  (unless  they  slept,  like  geese,  poised  on  one 
leg),  and  thereby  arrest  the  passage  of  many  pernicious 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.  169 

enactments  for  mending  rivers,  mending  manners, 
mending  charters,  mending  codes,  making  roads,  and 
making  beasts  of  burden  of  the  people  and  fools  of 
themselves.  Truly  saith  the  wise  man,  '  Too  much 
of  a  good  thing  is  good  for  nothing;'  and  too  much 
legislation  is  a  species  of  sly,  insidious  oppression, 
the  more  mischievous  as  coming  in  the  disguise  of 
powers  exercised  by  the  servants,  instead  of  the  mas- 
ters, of  the  people.  Commend  me  to  King  Log, 
rather  than  King  Stork.  Every  legislative  body,  in 
my  opinion,  should  have  a  majority  of  good  honest, 
sleepy,  patriotic  members,  whose  pleasure  it  should  be 
to  do  nothing  for  most  part  of  the  time  during  the 
session.  Your  active  men  are  highly  noxious  in  a 
government;  they  must  always  be  doing  something, 
meddling  with  every  one's  concerns,  and  so  busy  in 
keeping  the  wheels  of  government  going,  that  they 
don't  care  how  many  people  they  run  over.  They  are 
millstones  in  motion,  and  when  they  have  no  grist  to 
grind  will  set  one  another  on  fire.  To  my  notion, 
the  most  useful  member  that  ever  sat  in  Congress 
was  one  who  never  in  his  life  made  any  motion  ex- 
cept for  an  adjournment,  which  he  repeated  everyday 
just  before  dinner-time.  Truly,  the  energy  and  ac- 
tivity of  a  blockhead  are  awful." 

"  Once  upon  a  time,"  (so  says  the  fable,  according 
to  Alderman  Janson),  "the  empire  of  the  geese  was 
under  the  government  of  an  old  king  Gander,  who, 
though  he  exercised  an  absolute  sway,  was  so  idle, 
pampered,  and  phlegmatic,  that  he  slept  three  fourths 
^of  his  time,  during  which  the  subject  geese  did  pretty 
much  as  they  pleased.  But  for  all  this  he  was  a  pro- 
digious tyrant,  who  consumed  more  corn  than  half  of 


170  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

his  subjects,  and  moreover  obliged  them  to  duck  their 
heads  to  him  whenever  they  passed.  But  the  chief 
complaint  against  him  was,  that  though  he  could  do 
just  as  he  pleased,  it  was  his  pleasure  to  sit  still  and 
do  nothing. 

"  Whereupon  it  came  to  pass  one  day,  that  his  sub- 
jects held  a  town-meeting,  or  it  might  be  a  conven- 
tion, and  dethroned  him,  placing  the  government 
in  the  hands  of  the  wise  geese.  Feeling  themselves 
called  upon  to  justify  the  choice  of  the  nation,  by 
bettering  its  condition,  the  wise  geese  set  to  work,  and 
passed  so  many  excellent  laws,  that  in  a  little  time 
the  wisest  goose  of  the  community  could  hardly  tell 
whether  it  was  lawful  to  say  boo  to  a  goose,  or  hiss  at 
a  puppy-dog,  or  kick  up  a  dust  in  a  mill-pond  of  a 
warm  summer  morning.  When  the  time  of  these 
wise  geese  expired,  other  geese  still  wiser  were  chosen 
to  govern  in  their  stead,  for  such  was  the  prodigious 
march  of  mind  among  them,  that  there  was  not  a 
goose  in  the  whole  empire  but  believed  himself  ten 
times  wiser  than  his  father  before  him.  Each  succeed- 
ing council  of  wise  geese  of  course  considered  itself 
under  obligation  to  give  a  push  to  the  march  of  mind, 
until  at  length  the  mind  marched  so  fast  that  it  was 
in  great  danger  of  falling  on  its  nose,  and  continually 
ran  against  posts,  or  fell  into  ditches. 

"  Thus  each  generation  of  wise  geese  went  on  mak- 
ing excellent  laws  to  assist  the  march  of  mind  and  the 
progress  of  public  improvement,  until,  in  process  of 
time,  there  were  no  more  good  laws  to  pass,  and  it  be- 
came necessary  to  pass  bad  ones  to  keep  their  hands 
in,  and  themselves  in  their  places.  '  Gentlemen,'  said 
a  little,  busy,  bustling,   active,  managing,   talkative 


THE  NEW  MIRKOR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.      171 

young  goose,  who  was  resolved  nobody  should  insin- 
uate that  he  could  not  say  boo  to  a  goose  — '  gentle- 
men, it  does  not  signify,  we  must  do  something  for 
the  march  of  mind  and  the  progress  of  public  im- 
provement, or  the  citizen-geese  will  reduce  us  all  to 
nought,  and  choose  other  wise  geese  in  our  stead. 
They  are  already  the  happiest  geese  in  the  world ;  we 
must  make  them  a  little  too  happy,  or  they  will  never 
be  satisfied.'  Hereupon  each  of  the  wise  geese 
burned  to  do  something  to  assist  the  march  of  the 
mind  and  the  progress  of  public  improvement.  One 
proposed  a  law  to  forbid  geese  to  stand  upon  one  leg 
at  night  and  nuzzle  their  bills  in  their  own  feathers, 
this  being  a  dangerous  practice  inasmuch  as  it  exposed 
them  to  be  surprised  the  more  easily  by  foxes.  An- 
other offered  a  resolution,  to  oblige  all  the  geese  to 
lay  their  eggs  the  other  end  foremost  and  hatch  them 
in  half  the  usual  period,  whereby  much  time  would 
be  saved,  and  there  would  be  a  mighty  increase  of 
population.  (This  last  motion  was  made  by  an  old- 
bachelor  goose,  who  had  made  the  subject  of  popula- 
tion his  chief  study).  A  third  proposed  a  law  forbid- 
ding the  young  goslings  to  paddle  in  the  water,  till 
they  were  old  enough  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  the 
great  bull-frogs  and  snapping-turtles.  A  fourth  moved 
1<)  pick  one  half  the  geese  of  one  half  their  feathers, 
and  give  them  to  the  other  half  of  the  geese,  for  the 
encouragement  of  domestic  industry  and  the  national 
independence.  After  these  laws  had  been  debated 
a!)out  six  months,  they  were  passed  without  opposi- 
tion, it  being  discovered,  to  the  great  surprise  of  the 
house,  that  there  was  no  difference  of  opinion  on  the 
subject. 


172  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

"  Had  these  edicts  been  propounded  by  old  king 
Gander,  there  would  have  been  the  devil  to  pay 
among  the  geese,  and  such  a  hissing  as  was  never 
heard  before.  But  there  is  a  vast  difference  between 
being  governed  by  a  master  and  a  slave.  We  see  the 
proudest  monarchs  and  the  most  headstrong  tyrants 
submitting  to  the  whim  of  a  valet,  or  a  gentleman- 
usher,  or  any  other  mere  menial,  when  they  would 
resist  the  will  of  their  subjects  on  all  occasions.  So 
with  the  people,  and  so  it  was  with  the  republic  of 
the  geese :  they  allowed  themselves  to  be  perpetually 
cajoled,  and  laughed  at  the  idea  of  the  possibility  of 
having  their  chains  riveted  by  their  own  servants.  So 
the  married  geese  set  to  work  to  lay  their  eggs  accord- 
ing to  law.  But  nature  is  an  obstinate  lady,  and 
there  is  no  legislating  her  into  reason.  The  eggs  and 
the  goslings  came  into  the  world  just  as  they  did 
before.  The  goslings,  contrary  to  law,  would  be  dab- 
bling in  the  water,  and  getting  now  and  then  caught 
by  the  snapping-turtles,  and  there  was  no  such  thing 
as  punishing  the  little  rogues  after  they  were  dead. 
In  short,  of  all  these  laws,  there  was  but  one  which 
actually  went  into  operation,  namely,  that  for  picking 
one  half  of  the  geese  for  the  benefit  of  the  other 
half. 

"  But  it  was  never  yet  known  that  either  men  or 
geese  were  content  with  a  broken  loaf  when  they  could 
get  the  whole.  The  half  of  the  republic  of  the  geese, 
for  whose  benefit  the  other  half  had  been  picked,  in 
process  of  time  waxed  fat,  and  strong,  and  wealthy, 
whereas  the  moiety  that  had  been  stripped  of  a  good 
share  of  their  feathers  for  the  encouragement  of  do- 
mestic industry  waxed  proportionably  poor  and  mea- 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       173 

gre,  and  their  breast-bones  projected  awfully,  like  unto 
cut-waters.  The  fat  geese  now  began  to  grumble 
that  there  was  a  great  w^ant  of  patriotism  in  the  rules 
of  the  goosian  republic,  i-n  not  properly  encouraging 
domestic  industry,  since  nothing  w^as  clearer  than  that, 
if  half  a  loaf  was  good,  the  whole  loaf  was  better. 
So  they  petitioned  —  and  the  petition  of  the  strong  is 
a  demand  —  they  petitioned  that  the  geese  w^ho  had 
lost  half  their  feathers  for  the  public  good  should  be 
called  upon  to  yield  the  other  half,  like  honest,  patri- 
otic fellows.  The  law  was  passed  accordingly.  Bat 
public  discontent  is  like  a  great  bell ;  it  takes  a  long 
time  in  raising,  but  makes  a  mighty  noise  when  once 
up.  The  geese  which  had  been  picked  for  the  good 
of  the  republic  had  chewed  the  cud  of  their  poverty 
in  silence,  but  they  spit  venom  in  private  among 
themselves;  and  this  new  law  to  pluck  them  quite 
naked  brought  affairs  to  a  crisis.  In  matters  of  legis- 
lation, wealth  and  influence  are  every  thing.  But 
where  it  comes  to  club-law^  or  a  resort  to  the  right  of 
the  strongest,  poverty  always  carries  the  day.  The 
poor  plucked  geese  accordingly  took  back  by  force 
what  they  had  been  deprived  of  by  legislation,  with 
interest;  and,  finding  after  a  little  while  that  it  w^as 
necessary  to  have  a  head  of  some  kind  or  other,  unan- 
imously recalled  old  king  Gander  to  come  and  sleep 
over  them  again.  He  reigned  long  and  happily  — 
poised  himself  so  nicely,  by  doing  nothing,  and  keep- 
ing perfectly  still,  that  he  sat  upright  while  the  w^heel 
of  fortune  turned  round  under  him,  and  the  occa- 
sional rocking  of  his  kingdom  only  made  him  sleep 
the  sounder." 


174  THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 


MORAL. 

"  Leave  the  people  to  manage  their  private  affairs 
in  their  own  way  as  much  as  possible,  without  tlie 
interference  of  their  rulers.  The  worst  species  of 
tyranny  is  that  of  laws,  making  sudden  and  perpetual 
changes  in  the  value  of  property  and  the  wages  of 
labour,  thus  placing  every  man's  prosperity  at  the 
mercy  of  others." 

According  to  Alderman  Janson,  "  Albany  has  the 
merit,  or  the  reputation,  of  having  first  called  into 
activity,  if  not  into  existence,  a  race  of  men  perhaps 
the  most  useful  of  any  invented  since  the  days  of 
Prometheus,  who  make  it  their  sole  business  to  en- 
lighten the  legislature :  and  especially  on  subjects  of 
finance,  banking,  and  the  like.  They  are  called  by 
way  of  honourable  distinction  lobby-members,  be- 
cause they  form  a  sort  of  third  estate,  or  legislative 
chamber  in  the  lobby.  They  are  wonderful  adepts  at 
log-rolling^  and  of  such  extraordinary  powers  of  per- 
suasion, that  one  of  them  has  been  known  to  lay  a 
wager  that  he  would  induce  a  member  of  the  inner 
house  to  reconsider  his  vote,  in  a  private  conference 
of  half  an  hour.  Such  is  the  wonderful  disinterested- 
ness of  these  patriots  that  they  never  call  upon  the 
people  to  pay  them  three  dollars  a  day,  as  the  other 
members  do  :  on  the  contrary,  they  not  only  bear  their 
own  expenses,  but  give  great  entertainments,  and 
sometimes,  it  is  affirmed,  help  a  brother-member  of 
the  inner  house  along  with  a  loan,  a  subscription, 
and  even  a  free  gift  —  out  of  pure  good-nature  and 
charity. 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  175 

"  Their  ingenuity  is  exercised  for  the  benefit  of  the 
good  people  of  the  state,  in  devising  all  sorts  of  pro- 
jects, for  making  roads,  digging  canals,  and  sawing 
wood ;  all  which  they  will  execute  for  nothing,  pro- 
vided the  legislature  will  let  them  make  their  own 
money  out  of  rags,  and,  what  is  still  better,  '  Loan 
them  the  credit  of  the  state,'  for  half  a  million  or  so. 
It  is  astonishing  what  benefits  these  lohhy-memhevs 
have  conferred  on  this  great  state,  filling  it  with  com- 
panies for  furnishing  the  people  with  every  conveni- 
ence, from  bad  money  that  won't  pass,  to  coal  that 
won't  burn  —  whereby  people,  instead  of  wasting 
their  resources  in  necessaries,  may  spend  them  in 
superfluities.  Moreover,  they  have  reflected  great 
honour  upon  the  state  abroad,  it  being  a  common 
saying,  that  whoever  wants  his  scheme  '  log-rolled,''  or 
his  project  for  the  benefit  of  the  community  adopted 
by  a  legislature,  must  send  to  Albany  for  a  gang  of 
lobby-members.  I  thought  I  could  do  no  less  than 
say  what  I  have  said  in  behalf  of  these  calumniated 
people,  whom  I  intend  to  employ  next  winter,  in  get- 
ting an  incorporation  to  clear  Broadway  of  free  gen- 
tlemen of  colour,  ladies'  fashionable  bonnets,  and 
those  '  infernal  machines,'  that  whiz  about,  spirting 
water,  and  engendering  mud  from  one  end  of  the 
street  to  the  other,  thereby  making  it  unnavigable  for 
sober,  decent  people. 

"  In  former  times,"  continues  the  alderman,  "  Al- 
bany was  a  cheap  place,  where  an  honest  man  could 
live  on  a  small  income,  and  bring  up  a  large  family 
n^putably,  without  running  in  debt,  or  getting  a  note 
discounted.  But  domestic  industry  and  the  march  of 
public  improvement  have  changed  the  face  of  things, 


176  THE   NEW   MIRROR    FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

and  altered  the  nature  of  man  as  well  as  of  woman. 
The  father  must  live  in  style,  whether  he  can  afford  it 
or  not  —  the  daughters  must  dress  in  the  extremity  of 
bad  fashions,  learn  to  dance,  to  paint,  and  to  torture 
the  piano  —  and  the  sons  must  disdain  the  ignomini- 
ous idea  of  being  useful.  The  race  of  fine  ladies  and 
fine  gentlemen  —  (fine  feathers  make  fine  birds)  —  has 
multiplied  an  hundred-fold,  and  we  are  credibly  in- 
formed that  the  former  have  entered  into  a  solemn 
league  and  covenant,  not  to  marry  any  man  who  can- 
not afford  to  live  in  a  three-story  house  with  folding 
doors  and  marble  mantel-pieces.  The  ancient  Dutch 
economy  and  the  simple  habits  of  Dutchmen  have 
given  place  to  speculation  and  folly ;  and  the  posses- 
sion of  a  moderate  independence  is  sacrificed  to  liie 
idle  anticipation  of  unbounded  wealth.  The  race  of 
three-cornered  cocked-hats  is  almost  extinct  —  the  rev- 
erend old-fashioned  garments  so  becoming  to  age  are 
replaced  by  dandy  coats  —  the  good  housewives  no 
longer  toil  or  spin,  (and  yet  I  say  unto  thee,  gentle 
reader,  that  the  gardens  of  the  Euphrates  were  not 
so  party-coloured  as  one  of  these)  —  tavern-keepers 
charge  double,  hack  drivers  treble,  milliners  quad- 
ruple—  tailors  have  put  off  the  modesty  of  their 
natures  —  and  the  old  market-women  have  grown 
extortionate  in  cabbages  and  turnips.  Nay,  I  have  it 
from  the  best  authority,  that  an  old  burgher  of  the 
ancient  regime,  was  not  long  since  ousted,  by  the  force 
of  conjugal  eloquence,  out  of  a  patriarchal  coat, 
which  he  had  worn  with  honour  and  reputation  up- 
wards of  forty  years,  and  instigated  by  the  devil  to 
put  on  a  fashionable  frock  in  its  place." 

We  also  learn  from  the  manuscripts  of  Alderman 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  177 

Jan  son  of  blessed  memory,  that,  "  In  the  year  1783, 
on  the  26th  of  August,  one  Baltus  Blydenburgh, 
on  being  cahed  upon  by  Teunis  Van  Valer  for 
money  which  he  owed  him,  declined  paying  it,  on  the 
ground  that  it  was  not  in  his  power.  At  first  Teunis 
thought  he  was  joking,  but,  on  being  solemnly  as- 
sured to  the  contrary,  he  threw  up  his  hands  and  eyes 
to  heaven,  and  cried  out  in  Dutch,  "  Well,  den,  the 
world  is  certainly  coming  to  an  end  I",  and  departed 
into  the  streets,  where  he  told  every  body  he  met,  that 
Baltus  Blydenburgh  could  not  pay  his  debts,  and 
that  the  city  was  going  to  be  swallowed  up  like  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah.  The  story  spread,  and  the  panic  with 
it,  insomuch  that  the  good  careful  old  wives  packed  up 
all  their  petticoats  and  looking-glasses,  and  were  pre- 
paring to  depart  to  the  other  side  of  the  river.  Such 
a  thing  as  a  man's  not  paying  his  debts  had  never 
before  been  known  in  Albany,  and  beyond  doubt  the 
city  would  have  been  entirely  deserted,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  arrival  of  a  grandson  of  Philo  Long- 
fellow, from  New  York,  who  assured  them  there  was 
no  danger  of  an  earthquake  ;  for,  to  his  certain  knowl- 
edge, if  running  in  debt  for  more  than  people  were 
able  to  pay  would  produce  earthquakes,  there  would 
not  be  a  city  in  the  United  States  left  standing. 
Whereupon,"  continues  Alderman  Janson,  "  the  citi- 
zens were  mightily  comforted,  and  went  to  work 
getting  in  debt  as  fast  as  possible."  He  adds,  that, 
up  to  the  year  1783,  there  was  not  a  school-master 
in  Albany  that  could  tell  the  meaning  of  the  word 
"  bankrupt,"  and  concludes  with  the  following  affect- 
ing apostrophe :  "  Alas !  for  honest  old  Albany !  All 
this   comes   of  '  domestic   industry,'   '  the    march  of 

12 


178  THE   NEW   MIRROR    FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

public  improvement,'  and  the  innovations  of  the  pos- 
terity of  Philo  Longfellow !  " 

The  grand  canal  ends  at  Albany,  where  there  is 
a  capacious  basin  for  canal-boats.  "  The  canal  and 
locks,"  quoth  the  worthy  alderman,  "  cost  upwards  of 
eight  millions  of  dollars,  the  locks,  especially,  having 
been  very  expensive ;  ^vhence  the  favourite  song  of 
the  people  of  New  York  state  is : 

'  I  lock'd  up  all  my  treasure.'  " 

At  Albany,  wise  travellers  going  to  the  Springs  or 
to  Niagara  generally  quit  the  water,  and  take  to  land- 
carriage  ;  since  no  man,  who  is  either  in  a  hurry,  (as  all 
people  who  have  nothing  to  do  arc),  or  who  thinks  it  of 
any  importance  to  wear  a  head  on  his  shoulders,  would 
venture  on  the  canal.  Festlna  Icnte  is  the  maxim  of 
the  canal-boats ;  thoy  appear  always  in  a  hurry,  and 
yet  go  at  a  snail's  ])ace.  Four  or  five  miles  an  hour 
would  do  very  well  when  jieople  were  not  so  busy 
about  nothing  as  they  are  now,  but,  body  o'  me !,  fif- 
teen miles  an  hour  is  indispensable  to  the  new  regime. 
By  this  saving  of  time,  a  traveller  may  be  safely  said 
to  live  twice  as  long  as  he  could  do  before  the  march 
of  mind  and  the  progress  of  public  improvement.  The 
following  are  among  the  principal  rules  adopted  by 
very  experienced  travellers  on  leaving  Albany  by  land. 

Whenever  you  come  to  two  turnpike-roads,  branch- 
ing off  in  different  directions,  you  may  be  pretty  certain 
they  both  head  to  the  same  place,  it  being  a  maxim 
with  the  friends  of  public  improvement,  that,  as  two 
heads  are  better  than  one,  (though  one  of  them  be  a 
calf's-head),  so  are  tw^o  roads,  even  though  both  are 


THE  NEW  MIEROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       179 

as  bad  as  possible.  In  this  country  there  are  always 
at  least  two  nearest  ways  to  a  place  of  any  conse- 
quence. 

Never  inquire  your  way  of  persons  along  the  road, 
but  steer  by  the  map,  and  then  if  you  go  wrong  it 
will  be  with  a  clear  conscience. 

Never  ask  the  distance  to  any  place  of  "  one  of  the 
posterity  of  Philo  Longfellow,"  as  Alderman  Janson 
calls  them,  for  he  will  be  sure  to  ask  you  if  you  are 
going  there,  before  he  answers  your  question ;  nor  of 
the  descendants  of  the  Van  Wezels,  for,  ten  to  one, 
the  first  will  tell  you  it  is  ten  miles,  and  when  you 
have  gone  half  a  dozen  of  them,  the  next  will  apprise 
you,  after  scratching  his  head  in  the  manner  of  Scipio, 
that  it  is  nigh  about  twenty.  You  will  never  get  to 
the  end  of  your  journey,  if  you  believe  these  fellows. 

Never  stop  at  the  tavern  recommended  by  the  tav- 
ern-keeper at  whose  house  you  stopped  last.  They 
make  a  point  of  honour  of  not  speaking  ill  of  each 
other,  a  practice  which  we  would  particularly  recom- 
mend to  the  liberal  professions. 

When  you  enter  a  tavern,  begin  by  acting  the  great 
man  —  ask  for  a  private  room  —  call  the  landlord,  his 
wife,  and  all  his  household,  as  loud  as  you  can  —  set 
ihem  all  going,  if  possible,  and  find  fault,  not  only 
with  every  thing  you  see,  but  with  every  thing  they 
do.  Examine  the  beds,  and  be  particular  in  looking 
under  them,  to  see  if  there  is  no  robber  concealed 
ihere.  If  there  is  any  distinguished  person  living  in 
the  neighbourhood,  inquire  about  him  particularly, 
and  regret  you  have  not  time  to  stay  a  day  or  two 
with  him.  If  you  happen  to  be  travelling  in  a  hack- 
carriage,  make  the  driver  take  off  his  number  and  put 


180  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

up  a  coat  of  arms.  Be  sure  to  let  the  driver  know 
that  you  will  send  him  about  his  business  if  he  whis- 
pers a  word  of  the  matter,  and  be  so  particular  in 
looking  to  the  horses,  and  inquiring  if  they  have  been 
taken  care  of,  that  every  body  will  take  it  for  granted 
they  belong  to  you.  As  a  good  portion  of  the  pleas- 
ure of  travelling  consists  in  passing  for  a  person  of 
consequence,  these  directions  will  be  found  of  value 
in  bringing  about  this  desirable  result. 

"When  people  stop  by  the  side  of  the  road  to  stare 
at  your  equipage,  be  sure  to  loll  carelessly  back,  and 
take  not  the  least  notice  of  them.  They  will  think 
you  a  great  man,  certainly ;  whereas,  if  you  look  at 
them  complacently,  tliey  will  only  set  you  down  as  a 
gentleman. 

Be  careful,  when  you  go  away,  not  to  express  the 
least  satisfaction  to  landlord  or  landlady  at  your  en- 
tertainment, but  let  them  see  that  you  consider  your- 
self ill-treated.  They  will  take  it  for  granted  you 
have  been  used  to  better  at  home. 

If  you  travel  in  a  stage-coach,  look  as  dignified  as 
possible,  and,  if  any  body  asks  you  a  civil  question, 
give  him  an  uncivil  look  in  return,  (as  is  the  fashion 
with  the  English  quality-cockneys),  unless  the  person 
looks  as  if  he  might  tweak  your  nose  for  assuming 
airs. 

Always,  if  possible,  set  out  in  a  stage  with  a  drunken 
driver,  because  there  is  some  reason  to  calculate  he 
will  be  sober  in  time.  Whereas,  if  he  sets  out  sober, 
it  is  pretty  certain  he  will  be  drunk  all  the  rest  of  the 
journey. 

If  you  meet  with  a  stranger  who  seems  inclined 
to  be  civil  extempore,  take  it  for  granted  he  means  to 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  181 

pick  your  pocket  or  diddle  you  in  some  way  or  other. 
Civility  is  too  valuable  an  article  to  be  given  away 
for  nothing. 

If  you  travel  in  a  handsome  equipage,  no  matter 
whether  your  own  or  not,  be  careful  not  to  enter  a 
town  after  dark,  or  leave  it  before  the  people  are  up ; 
else  one  half  of  them  won't  have  an  opportunity  of 
seeing  you. 

Always  plump  into  the  back  seat  of  a  stage-coach 
without  ceremony,  w^hether  there  are  females  to  be 
accommodated  or  not.  If  any  man  happens  to  claim 
the  place  you  have  taken,  you  can  only  get  out  again 
you  know,  and  look  dignified. 

Always  be  in  a  bad-humour  when  you  are  travel- 
ling. Nothing  is  so  vulgar  as  perpetual  cheerfulness. 
It  proves  a  person  devoid  of  well-bred  sensibility. 

Touching  the  payment  of  bills,  our  friend  Stephen 
Griffin,  Esq.,  assures  us  that,  on  the  continent  of 
Europe,  none  but  an  English  cockney-traveller,  with 
more  money  than  wit,  ever  thinks  of  paying  a  biU 
without  deducting  one  half.  Here,  in  this  honest 
country,  it  would  be  unreasonable  in  the  traveller  to 
deduct  more  than  one  third,  that  being  the  usual  ex- 
cess along  the  roads,  and  at  public  places  much  fre- 
quented by  people  having  a  vocation  to  travelling  for 
pleasure.  If,  however,  you  wish  to  pass  for  a  great 
man,  pay  the  bill  without  looking  at  it.  We  were 
acquainted  with  a  great  broker,  who  always  pursued 
this  plan,  and  the  consequence  was,  that  hostlers, 
chambermaids,  and  landlords,  one  and  all,  looked 
upon  him  as  the  greatest  man  in  America,  and  no- 
body could  be  waited  on,  or  accommodated  at  the 


182'  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

inns,  until  he  was  properly  disposed  of.  There  is,  on 
the  contrary,  a  meritorious  class  of  travellers,  whose 
business  is  to  get  away  from  hotels  and  public-houses 
without  paying  at  all ;  who  drink  their  bottle  of  Bing- 
ham, Marston,  or  Billy  Ludlow,  every  day,  scot-free. 
This  requires  considerable  original  genius,  much 
knowledge  of  the  world,  and  great  power  of  face, 
with  a  capacity  of  changing  names.  Your  alias  is  a 
staunch  friend  to  worthies  of  this  class.  The  best 
school  for  this  species  of  knowledge  is  the  Quarter- 
Sessions,  or  the  police-court,  where  a  regular  attend- 
ance of  about  a  tAvelvemonth  will  hardly  fail  of  initi- 
ating the  scholar  into  all  the  mysteries  of  the  noble 
art  of  running  in  debt,  an  art  than  which  there  is  not 
one  more  vitally  important  to  the  rising  generation. 

Before  we  leave  Albany,  we  would  caution  the 
traveller  against  anticipating  any  thing  extraordinary 
in  the  way  of  eating  at  this  place.  In  vain  may  he 
sigh  for  canvas-backs,  or  terrapins.  A  turtle  some- 
times finds  its  way  there,  and  now  and  then  a  cargo 
of  oysters ;  but  in  general  there  is  little  or  nothing  to 
detain  the  enlightened,  travelled  gourmand.  The  fare 
will  do  well  enough  for  legislators  and  lobby-mem- 
bers, but,  for  a  refined  and  cultivated  palate,  what  can 
be  expected  from  a  people  who  are  said  to  follow  the 
antiquated  maxim  of  the  old  song : 

"  I  eat  -R-hen  I'm  hungrj',  and  drink  -when  I'm  dry,"  — 

a  maxim  in  itself  so  utterly  vulgar  and  detestable, 
that  it  could  only  have  originated  in  the  fancy  of 
some  half-starved  ballad-monger,  who  considered  the 
mere  filling  of  his  stomach  as  the  perfection  of  hu- 
man happiness.     Any  fool  can  eat  when  he  is  hungry 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  183 

and  drink  when  he  is  dry,  provided  he  can  get  any 
thing  to  eat  or  drink ;  this  is  the  bliss  of  a  quadruped, 
devoid  of  the  reasoning  faculty.  But  to  enjoy  the 
delight  of  eating  without  appetite,  to  be  able  to  bring 
back  the  sated  palate  to  a  relish  of  some  new  dainty, 
to  reanimate  the  exhausted  energies  of  the  fainting 
stomach,  and  waken  it  to  new  exstacies  of  fruition ; 
to  get  dyspepsias,  and  provoke  apoplexies,  is  the 
privilege  of  that  man  alone,  w^hose  reason  has  been 
refined,  expanded,  and  perfected  by  travel  and  experi- 
ence. The  happiest  man,  in  our  opinion,  we  ever 
knew,  was  a  favoured  being  who  possessed  the  furor 
of  eating  in  greater  perfection  than  all  the  rest  of  hu- 
mankind. He  would  eat  a  whole  turkey,  a  pair  of 
canvas-backs,  and  a  quarter  of  mutton,  at  a  sitting,  and 
finish  with  a  half-bushel  of  peaches.  He  was  indeed 
an  example  to  his  species ;  but  he  was  too  good  for 
this  world,  and  was  maliciously  taken  off  by  an  un- 
lucky bone,  at  a  turtle  feast  at  Hoboken,  where  he 
excelled  even  himself,  and  died  a  blessed  martyr. 
The  only  consolation  remaining  to  his  friends  is,  that 
he  was  afterwards  immortalized  in  the  following  lines 
of  the  famous  prize-poet,  who  happened  to  be  at  the 
feast  which  proved  so  disastrous. 

"  Here  lies  a  man  whom  flesh  could  ne'er  withstand; 
Bnt  bone,  alas!,  did  get  the  upper  hand. 
Death  in  the  shape  of  turtle,  venison,  fowl, 
Oft  came  and  shook  his  scythe  with  ghastly  scowl, 
But  hero-like  he  damned  him  for  a  bore, 
And  cried,  undaunted,  'waiter  bring  us  more!' 
At  last  death  came  in  likeness  of  a  bone. 
And  the  pot-valiant  champion  was  o'erthrown. 
If  death  one  single  ounce  of  flesh  had  had, 
'Twnuld  have  been  all  over  with  him  there,  egad; 
A  broil  of  him  our  hungry  friend  had  made, 
And  turtle-clubs  been  never  more  dismay'd 
By  the  gaunt  imp  of  chaos  and  old  night. 
Who  spoils  full  many  a  glorious  appetite." 


184  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

"  At  Albany,"  as  Alderman  Janson  observes,  "  ends 
the  proper  sloop-navigation  of  the  Hudson.  It  is  true 
they  do  manage  to  get  them  up  as  far  as  Troy,  and 
Lansingburgh,  and  even  Waterford.  But  nature 
never  intended  they  should  go  farther  than  Albany. 
It  was  in  full  confidence  of  this  that  the  first  colony 
pitched  upon  Albany  as  the  site  of  a  great  city,  which 
was  destined  in  a  happy  hour  to  become  the  capital 
of  the  state.  Unfortunate  adventurers!,  they  never 
dreamed  of  the  march  of  the  human  mind,  and  the 
progress  of  public  improvements ;  or  of  companies 
incorporated  for  the  performance  of  miracles.  They 
never  surmised  the  possibility  of  a  river  like  the  Hud- 
son, the  master-piece  of  the  Creator  of  the  universe, 
being  improved  by  an  act  of  the  legislature ;  nor  did 
it  ever  enter  into  tlieir  matter-of-fact  brains  that  the 
posterity  of  Philo  Longfellow  would  found  a  city  as 
it  were  right  over  their  heads  at  Troy,  and  thus  inter- 
cept the  rafts  coming  down  the  river  to  Albany. 
What  a  pity  it  is  that  people  cannot  see  a  little  far- 
ther into  millstones !  What  glorious  speculations  we 
should  all  make!  —  except  that,  every  body  being 
equally  enlightened  as  to  the  future,  there  would  be 
no  speculation  at  all,  which  would  be  a  terrible  thing 
for  those  useful  people  who,  having  no  money  them- 
selves, disinterestedly  go  about  manufacturing  excel- 
lent projects,  to  drain  the  pockets  of  those  who  have. 
Money  is,  in  truth,  like  an  eel ;  it  is  easy  to  catch  it, 
but  to  hold  it  fast  afterwards  is  rather  a  difficult  mat- 
ter. And  here  I  am  reminded  of  the  fate  of  an  honest 
codger  of  my  acquaintance,  who  had  become  rich  by 
a  long  course  of  industry  and  economy,  and  who  at 
the  age  of  forty-five  set  himself  down   in   a  smart, 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  185 

growing   town,   not  a  hundred   miles  from   I  forget 
where,  to  enjoy  the  life  of  a  gentleman. 

"  Martin  Forbush,  that  was  his  name,  lived  a  whole 
year  in  his  dignified  retirement,  at  the  end  of  which 
he  became  rather  dyspeptic,  and  began  to  get  out  of 
humour  with  the  life  of  a  gentleman.  Of  all  the  cas- 
tles ever  built  in  the  air,  the  castle  of  indolence  is  the 
worst.  Ease  'is  not  to  be  bought  with  wampum,  or 
paper-money,'  as  Horace  says ;  a  man  must  have 
some  employment,  or  pursuit  —  or  at  least  a  hobby- 
horse —  or  he  can  never  be  contented  on  earth.  To 
one  who  has  been  all  his  life  making  money,  the  mere 
enjoyment  of  his  wealth  is  not  worth  a  fig.  Even  the 
great  good,  eating,  has  its  limits.  To  be  sure,  noth- 
ing is  wanting  to  the  happiness  of  a  rich  man  but 
that  his  appetite  should  increase  with  his  means  of 
indulging  it.  But,  alas!,  it  would  seem  that  every 
pleasure  in  life  is  saddled  with  its  penalty,  and  that 
the  gratification  of  the  senses  carries  with  it  the  ele- 
ments of  its  own  punishment.  The  very  food  we 
devour  rises  up  in  judgment  against  us.  The  turtle 
is  revenged  by  apoplexy,  dyspepsia,  epilepsy,  and  cat- 
alepsy.    Enough.     The  subject  is  too  heart-rending. 

"  While  honest  Martin  was  thus  dying  by  inches, 
of  a  gentleman's  life,  and  pining  away  both  corpo- 
really and  mentally  under  the  incubus  of  idleness,  as 
good  luck  would  have  it,  a  stirring,  long-headed,  in- 
genious, speculative,  poor  devil,  came  to  settle  in  the 
town,  which,  as  nature  had  done  little  or  nothing  for 
[  it,  was  the  finest  place  that  could  be  for  public  im- 
provements of  all  kinds.  He  was  inexhaustible  in 
plans  for  laying  out  capital  to  the  greatest  advantage; 
he  never  saw  a  river  that  he  could  not  make  naviga- 


186  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

ble,  a  field  that  he  could  not  make  produce  four-fold, 
or  a  fall  of  three  feet  perpendicular  that  was  not  the 
fairest  site  in  the  world  for  mills  and  manufactories. 
All  he  wanted  was  money,  and  that  he  contrived  to 
make  others  supply,  which  was  but  reasonable.  It 
would  have  been  too  much  for  him  to  furnish  both 
the  dollars  and  the  wit. 

"  The  first  thing  such  a  public-spirited  person  does, 
on  locating  himself  among  the  people  whom  he  has 
come  to  devour,  is  to  find  me  out  all  those  snug  fel- 
lows, who  have  ready  money  in  their  purses  and  dirt 
to  their  boots  —  men  that  have  a  few  thousands  lying 
by  them,  or  stock  that  they  can  turn  at  once  into 
cash,  or  land  that  they  can  mortgage  for  a  good 
round  sum.  Having  smelled  out  his  game,  our  advo- 
cate for  public  improvement  takes  every  opportunity 
of  pointing  out  capital  speculations,  and  hinting  that 
if  he  only  had  a  few  thousands  to  spare,  he  could 
double  them  in  the  course  of  two  or  three  years.  Mar- 
tin pricked  up  his  ears.  He  longed,  past  all  longing, 
to  be  turning  a  penny  to  advantage.  It  would  give  a 
zest  to  his  life ;  it  would  employ  his  time,  which  he 
did  not  know  what  to  do  with.  In  short,  he  listened 
and  was  overcome.  He  determined  to  immortalize 
his  name  as  a  great  public  benefactor,  and  double  his 
money  at  the  same  time. 

"  There  was  a  river  about  a  hundred  yards  wide, 
running  close  to  the  skirts  of  the  town,  which  the 
apostle  of  public  improvements  assured  Martin  was 
the  finest  place  for  a  bridge  that  was  ever  seen.  It 
seemed  to  be  made  on  purpose.  There  was  not  the 
least  doubt  but  it  would  yield  in  tolls  from  thirty  to 
fifty  per  cent  on  the  first  cost.     Nothing  was  want- 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       187 

iiig  but  legislative  authority  for  this  great  work.  He 
would  go  to  Albany,  next  session,  and  get  an  act 
passed  for  that  purpose,  if  he  only  had  the  means; 
but  just  now  he  was  a  little  short,  one  of  his  principal 
debtors  having  disappointed  him. 

"  Honest  Martin,  rather  than  miss  such  a  capital 
speculation,  agreed  to  advance  the  needful,  and,  at  a 
proper  time,  the  redoubtable  Timothy  Starveling,  or 
Starling,  as  he  called  himself,  set  out  upon  his  mission 
to  the  paradise  of  lobby-members.  Timothy  took 
lodgings  at  the  first  hotel,  kept  open  house,  treated 
most  nobly  with  honest  Martin  Forbush's  cash,  and 
wound  himself  into  the  confidence  of  two  senators 
and  five  members.  But  before  the  matter  was"  decided 
the  money  was  run  out,  and  therefore  Timothy  Starve- 
ling wrote  a  most  mysterious  letter  to  Martin,  hinting 
at  extraordinary  expenses ;  accommodating  members 
with  loans  —  small  matters,  that  told  in  the  end;  con- 
ciliating influential  people ;  oiling  the  wheels ;  and 
heaven  knows  what  else.  Martin  understood  not  one 
word  of  all  this,  but,  rather  than  lose  his  money  and  his 
project,  he  sent  his  agent  a  fresh  supply  of  cash.  The 
bridge,  notwithstanding,  stuclv  not  a  little  by  the  way, 
owing  to  the  opposition  of  some  who  had  not  been 
.properly  enlightened  on  the  subject ;  but,  by  dint  of 
log-rolling^  it  floundered  through  at  last.  Timothy 
got  it  tacked  to  a  Lombard  and  a  steam-saw-mill, 
and  the  business  was  accomplished.  He  then,  upon 
the  strength  of  his  charter,  bought  a  carriage  and 
horses,  and  rode  home  in  style. 

"  Well,  they  set  to  work,  and  the  bridge  was  built 

i  with  Martin's  money.    But  it  brought  him  in  no  tolls, 

owing  to  the  circumstance  of  there  being  no  road  at 


188  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  j 

the  end  of  it.  Martin  scratched  his  head ;  but  Tim- 
othy was  nowise  dismayed.  All  they  had  to  do  was 
to  make  a  turnpike-road,  from  the  end  of  the  bridge 
to  the  next  town,  which  was  actually  laid  out,  though 
not  actually  built,  and  there  would  be  plenty  of  tolls. 
'  Roads  make  travellers,'  quoth  Timothy,  and  Martin 
believed  it.  Another  act  of  the  legislature  became 
necessary,  and  another  mission  for  Timothy.  The 
opposition  was,  however,  much  more  difficult  to  over- 
come than  on  the  former  occasion,  owing  to  an  ill- 
natured  definition  given  by  a  country  member,  to  wit: 
'  A  turnpike-bill  is  a  law  to  enable  the  few  to  tax  the 
many,  for  a  bad  road  kept  in  bad  repair.'  It  cost 
Martin  a  pretty  penny  to  get  permission  for  a  road, 
and  it  cost  him  a  prettier  penny  still  to  make  it. 
However,  made  it  was,  at  last.  Timothy  superin- 
tended, and  Martin  paid.  The  tolls  were  not  sufficient 
to  hire  an  old  woman  for  opening  the  gates.  Few 
people  were  tempted  by  their  occasions  to  pass  that  i 
way,  and  those  few  forded  the  river,  it  being  shallow, 
and  saved  their  coppers. 

"But  those  who  think  Master  Timothy  Starveling 
was  at  his  wit's  end  here,  reckon  without  their  host. 
You  might  as  well  catch  a  cat  asleep,  as  Timothy  at 
a  nonplus.  '  We'll  petition  for  an  act  to  deepen  the 
river,  and  thus  kill  two  birds  with  one  stone.  By  im- 
proving the  navigation  we  shall  bring  vast  quantities 
of  produce  down,  which  will  make  the  town  the  grand 
emporium  of  this  part  of  the  country,  and  at  the  same 
time  so  deepen  the  channel  that  it  will  not  be  ford- 
able.'  Martin  thought  the  idea  prodigious,  and  the 
same  game  was  played  a  third  time  by  Timothy  at 
Albany.     They  improved  the  navigation  of  the  river 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  189 

at  no  small  cost,  by  deepening  the  channel.  But  rivers 
are  unmanageable  commodities.  As  fast  as  they 
deepened  it  filled  up  again,  and  one  heavy  rain  depos- 
ited more  mud  and  sand  than  could  be  removed  in  a 
year.  In  short,  before  the  river  became  navigable, 
or  the  road  and  bridge  brought  in  their  thirty  to  fifty 
per  cent,  the  purse  of  Martin  Forbush  ceased  to  jingle 
at  the  touch.     It  was  as  empty  as  my  pocket. 

"  One  day,  when  Master  Timothy  Starveling  came 
to  Martin  for  a  small  trifle  to  complete  the  project, 
the  latter  worthy  gentleman  crawled  forth  with  his 
eyebrows  elevated,  his  forehead  wrinkled,  and  his 
shoulders  almost  as  high  as  his  head ;  and,  turning 
his  breeches-pockets  insides  out,  looked  with  most 
rueful  significance  at  the  great  advocate  of  public 
improvements.  '  Pooh,'  said  the  former,  '  there  is  a 
remedy  for  all  things,  even  for  an  empty  pocket ;  look 
here,'  (pulling  out  the  charter  for  the  bridge),  '  I've 
got  an  iron  in  the  fire  yet,  I  thank  you.'  Whereupon 
he  showed  Martin  a  clause  in  the  act,  which,  with  a 
very  little  stretching  and  twisting,  might  be  fairly  in- 
terpreted into  a  privilege  for  banking.  Martin  was 
now  pretty  desperate,  and  caught  at  the  idea.  They 
got  together  all  the  paupers  of  the  town,  who  sub- 
scribed their  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands ;  gave 
their  notes  as  security  for  the  payment  of  their  sub- 
scriptions ;  and  chose  Martin,  president,  and  Timothy, 
cashie'r.  Then,  announcing  to  an  astonished  world, 
which  wondered  where  the  money  came  from,  that 
the  stock  was  all '  paid  in,  or  secured  to  be  paid,'  they 
proceeded  to  the  business  of  issuing  notes,  without 
taking  their  redemption  into  account.  For  a  while 
they  went  on  prosperously.     There   will   always   be 


190  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

found  a  sufficient  number  of  honest  fools  in  every 
community  for  rogues  to  work  upon,  and  the  good 
people  were  rejoiced  in  their  hearts,  to  find  money  so 
plenty.  But,  in  an  evil  hour,  there  appeared  at  the 
bank  of  Diddledum,  a  spruce  young  fellow  in  boots 
and  spurs,  with  a  bundle  of  bank-notes,  who  an- 
nounced himself  as  the  cashier  of  the  neighbouring 
bank,  of  Fiddledum,  and  demanded  the  payment  of 
his  bundle  in  specie.  There  never  was,  nor  was  there 
now,  nor  ever  would  have  been,  a  dollar  of  specie  in 
the  bank  of  Diddledum.  This  ungentlemanly  and 
malicious  run^  being  what  no  one,  not  even  Timothy 
Starveling,  Esquire,  cashier,  had  ever  dreamed  of,  the 
spruce  young  gentleman  in  boots  and  spurs  was  civilly 
requested  to  wait  till  they  could  have  a  meeting  of 
the  directors.  But  the  young  gentleman  forthwith 
went  to  a  notary  and  got  all  the  notes  protested; 
after  which  he  placed  them  in  the  hands  of  a  lawyer, 
who  commenced  a  suit  on  each  of  them,  in  order  to 
save  expense.  The  spruce  young  gentleman  in  boots 
and  spurs  then  departed  for  the  happy  village,  which 
had  grown  so  fast  under  the  refreshing  auspices  of 
the  bank  of  Fiddledum,  that  every  body  said  it  would 
soon  outgrow  itself.  There  were  sixty  new  houses, 
three  great  hotels,  and  six  distilleries,  all  built  by  men 
who  were  not  worth  a  groat.  How  blessed  is  paper- 
money,  how  blessed  its  legitimate  offspring,  public 
improvements ! 

"  But,  blessed  as  it  is,  it  proved  the  downfall  of 
Timothy  Starveling,  Esquire,  cashier  of  the  bank 
of  Diddledum.  That  night,  the  bank  closed  its  doors, 
to  open  no  more,  and  the  ingenious  Timothy,  as  was 
supposed,  in  attempting  to  cross  the  river  on  horse- 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       191 

back,  to  avoid  the  '  public  sentiment,'  was  swept  away 
by  the  stream,  which  had  been  swelled  to  a  torrent 
by  heavy  rains,  and  never  appeared  again.  At  least, 
his  hat  was  found,  several  miles  down  the  river ;  but 
himself  and  his  horse  could  never  be  discovered,  al- 
though the  '  INIorgan  Committee '  took  up  the  affair. 

"  INIartin  Forbush  was  stripped  of  all  his  hard  earn- 
ings. He  surrendered  his  bridge,  his  road,  and  his 
navigation-improvements  to  his  creditors  —  and  much 
good  did  it  do  them.  He  went  back  to  his  old  shop, 
to  begin  the  world  anew.  In  process  of  time  he  be- 
came once  more  an  independent  man.  But  he  never 
again  turned  gentleman,  and  consequently  never  got 
the  dyspepsia.  He  never  burnt  his  j&ngers  afterwards 
with  public  improvements,  and  nobody  could  ever 
persuade  him  to  make  a  speculation.  He  even  forgave 
Timothy  Starveling,  and  was  wont  to  say,  '  Plague 
take  him  !  —  he  robbed  me  of  all  my  money,  but  then 
he  cured  me  of  the  blue  devils.' " 

We  would  advise  the  fashionable  tourist,  (and  to 
none  other  is  this  work  addressed),  who  of  course  is 
hurrying  directly  to  the  Springs,  to  go  by  the  way  of 
the  Cohoes  and  Waterford,  and  as  far  as  possible  to 
hug  the  bank  of  the  Hudson.  "  Leaving  Albany," 
says  Alderman  Janson,  "  you  come  upon  those  rich 
flats,  that  present  a  soft  Arcadian  scene,  beautified 
with  all  the  products  of  nature  and  industrious  man. 
The  meadows  are  peopled  with  luxurious  Dutch  cattle, 
resting  in  the  shade  of  spreading  elms  that  dot  the 
landscape  here  and  there.  The  fields  of  yellow  wheat 
just  ripening  in  the  sunny  month  of  July,  the  acres  of 
stately  corn  with  its  dark  green  leaves,  flaunting  like 
ribbons  about  the  brow  of  youth  —  bounded  on  one 


192  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

side  by  the  swelling,  rolling  hills,  on  the  other  by  the 
glassy  river,  —  all  together  make  a  scene  worthy  of 
the  golden  age,  and  of  the  simple  virtuous  patriarchs 
who  yet  inhabit  there,  smoking  their  pipes,  and  talk- 
ing Dutch,  in  spite  of  the  changes  of  fashion,  and  the 
vagaries  of  inflated  vanity,  which  instil  into  the  hearts 
of  the  foolish  the  belief,  that  alteration  is  improve- 
ment, and  that  one  generation  of  men  is  wiser  than 
another.  It  is  thus  that  youth  laughs  at  age,  and  that 
the  forward  urchin,  who  knows  notliing  of  the  world 
but  the  vices  and  follies  of  a  boy,  thinks  himself  wiser 
than  his  grandfather  of  fourscore." 

Infandum^  regina  —  we  despise  Latin  scraps,  ever 
since  the  publication  of  the  Dictionary  of  Quotations. 
But  who  has  not  heard  of  Troy  ?  —  not  that  famous 
city  which  Jacob  Bryant  maintained  never  had  an 
existence,  although  it  lias  made  more  noise  in  the 
world  than  the  greatest  matter-of-fact  cities  extant  — 
not  the  city  which  thousands  of  travellers  have  gone 
to  see,  and  come  away,  without  seeing  —  not  the  city 
which  sustained  a  ten  years'  siege,  and  was  at  last 
taken  by  a  wooden  horse  ;  —  no,  verily,  but  the  indu- 
bitable city  of  Troy,  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson, 
which  is  worth  three  thousand  beggarly  Scamanders, 
and  six  thousand  Heilesponts?  We  are  aware  that 
this  excellent  town,  which  contains  at  this  moment 
Helens  enough  to  set  the  whole  world  on  fire,  is  pro- 
nounced by  that  great  geographer  and  traveller.  Lieu- 
tenant De  Roos,  to  be  in  New  England.  Perish  the 
thought!  New  England  never  had  such  a  town  to  its 
back;  one  so  full  of  enterprising  people,  continually 
plotting  against  the  repose  of  Dame  Nature.  Alex- 
ander  once   seriously   contemplated    cutting    Mount 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  193 

Athos  into  a  statue ;  King  Stephanus  Bombastes  lost 
his  wits  with  the  idea  of  making  Bohemia  a  maritime 
power  —  whence  it  was,  that  Corporal  Trim  very 
properly  called  him,  '  This  unfortunate  king  of  Bohe- 
mia ' ;  and  a  great  advocate  of  public  improvements 
is  now  so  unluckily  mad  on  the  subject,  that  he 
fancies  himself  a  great  chip,  floating  in  all  weathers 
on  the  great  northern  canal.  But  all  these  are  noth- 
ing to  the  Trojans,  who,  it  is  said,  seriously  contem- 
plate a  canal,  parallel  with  the  Hudson,  from  Troy  to 
New  York,  if  they  can  only  get  the  legislature  to  pass 
an  act  against  its  freezing.  Alas!  poor  river  gods! 
what  will  become  of  them  ?  As  sings  the  famous 
prize-poet,  who,  we  hereby  solemnly  affirm,  in  our 
opinion  deserves  to  have  his  whiskers  curled  on  the 
very  pinnacle  of  Parnassus,  — 

"  Noah  be  hang'd,  and  all  his  race  accursed, 
Who  in  sea-brine  did  pickle  timber  first!  " 

He  means  to  say,  that  your  salt-water  rivers  are  no 
longer  to  be  tolerated,  and  ought  to  be  forthwith  leg- 
islated out  of  existence,  and  doomed  to  oblivion.  It  is 
a  great  thing  to  discover  what  your  modern  poets 
would  be  at.  They  are  the  true  "  children  of  mist." 
But,  to  continue  our  quotation  :  — 

"  0  Trojan  Greeks  !,  who  dwell  at  Ida's  foot, 
Pull  up  this  crying  evil  by  the  root; 
Rouse  in  the  mighty  majesty  of  mind, 
Pull  up  your  mighty  breeches  tiglit  behind, 
Then  stretch  the  red  right  arm  from  shore  to  shore. 
And  swear  that  rivers  shall  endure  no  more !  " 
i 

"  It  is  almost  worth  while,"  says  Alderman  Janson, 
"  to  sacrifice  a  few  hours  of  the  delights  of  the  Springs, 
for  the  purpose  of  ascending  Mount  Ida,  and  seeing 

13 


194  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

the  romantic  little  cascade,  a  capital  place  for  manu- 
factories. In  the  opinion  of  some  people,  this  is  all 
that  water-falls  are  good  for  nowadays.  I  would 
describe  it,  but  for  fear  of  drawing  the  attention  of 
some  prowling  villain,  who  would  perhaps  come  and 
build  a  cotton-mill,  and  set  all  the  pretty  little  rosy- 
cheeked  Helens  of  Troy  tending  s])inning-jennies, 
from  sunrise  to  sunset,  and  long  after,  at  a  shilling  a 
day,  instead  of  leaving  them  to  the  enjoyment  of  the 
few  hours  of  rest  and  careless  hilarity  which  God  in 
his  wisdom  hath  appropriated  to  the  miserable  pack- 
horses  of  this  age  of  improvements.  The  domestic 
industry  of  females  is  at  home,  by  the  fireside,  in  the 
society  of  their  families,  surrounded  and  protected  by 
their  household  gods  ;  not  in  woollen  and  cotton  mills, 
herded  together  by  hundreds,  and  toiling  without  in- 
termission at  the  everlasting  spinning-jenny,  without 
leisure  to  cultivate  the  domestic  virtues,  or  opportunity 
for  mental  improvement.  Of  all  the  blockheads  this 
side  of  the  moon,  in  my  opinion  the  farmers  of  these 
United  States  are  the  greatest,  considering  the  pains 
taken  by  the  members  of  Congress  and  others  to  en- 
lighten them.  What  in  the  name  of  all  the  thick- 
sculled  wiseacres,  past,  present  and  to  come,  do  they 
want  of  a  '  woollen  bill,'  and  what  do  the  blockheads 
expect  from  getting  perhaps  a  penny  or  two  more  a 
pound  for  their  wool,  except  to  pay  twice  as  much  a 
yard  for  the  cloth  which  is  made  out  of  it?  Why 
don't  they  learn  wisdom  from  their  own  sheep  ? 

"  A  cunning  old  fox  one  day  put  his  head  through 
the  bars  of  a  sheepfold,  and  addressed  the  flock  as 
follows :  '  Gentlemen,  I  have  a  proposition  to  make, 
greatly  to  your  advantage;  I'll  give  you  a  penny  a 


THE   NEW   MIRROR    FOR   TRAVELLERS.  195 

pound  more  for  your  wool  (if  you'll  only  let  me  shear 
you)  one  of  these  days,  provided  meantime  you'll 
pay  me  a  dollar  more  a  yard  for  the  cloth  I  make  out 
of  it'  Whereupon  an  old  ram  of  some  experience 
cried  '  Baah  I ',  and  all  the  rest  of  the  sheep  followed 
his  example." 

In  speaking  of  Troy,  Alderman  Janson,  who  was  a 
great  hunter  of  manuscripts,  states  that  he  saw  there 
a  curious  poem,  written  by  a  schoolmaster  of  Troy 
about  forty  years  ago,  in  imitation  of  Homer's  Bat- 
rachomyomachia. 

As  a  specimen,  the  worthy  alderman  has  copied  the 
invocation,  which  we  insert,  with  a  view  of  indicating 
the  corruption  of  the  public  press  at  that  period.  We 
congratulate  our  readers  at  the  same  time  on  the  im- 
provement which  the  march  of  mind  hath  brought 
about  in  this  as  well  as  every  thing  else. 

"  Thee  we  invoke,  0  sacred  nine  !  — 
No,  not  the  sacred  nine,  but  thee, 

The  youngest  sister  of  the  nine,  unknown  in  ancient  song!  — 
Thee,  the  tenth  muse!,  begot,  as  legends  tell, 
By  printer's  devil  on  a  famous  shrew 
(Who  had  kill'd  nine  husbands  with  eternal  clacking,) 
Up  in  a  garret  high,  between  two  newspapers, 
One  Jackson  t'other  Adams. 
There  thou  didst  learn  thy  alphabet, 
'Mid  billingsgate  most  dire ; 
Loud  blustering  lies,  and  whispered  calumnies, 
Were  thy  first  lessons  in  the  art  of  speech; 
Next,  impudence  became  thy  dry-nurse, 
And  did  teach  thy  genius  apt,  to  mouth  with  high  pretence 
Of  art  and  literature,  science  profound. 
And  taste  preeminent,  stol'n  from  the  man  in  the  moon, 
Or  God  knows  where.     There  thou  didst  learn 
To  judge  by  virtue  of  thine  ignorance; 
To  criticise  a  classic  in  false  grammar, 
And  in  bad  English  all  the  world  defy. 
There  too,  as  stories  go,  thou  didst  become 
A  connoisseur  in  Flemish  and  Italian  schools, 


196  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

Albeit  thou  never  sawest  a  picture  in  thy  life, 
Save  on  a  sign-post  at  a  tavern  door; 
Able  to  scan,  -with  taste  infallible, 
A  bust  or  statue,  by  approved  rules, 
Gathered  from  frequent  contemplation  deep 
Of  barbers'  blocks,  and  naked  blackamoors, 
Stuck  up  by  wicked  wights  to  lure  our  youth 
To  shave  their  beards,  and  chew  tobacco  —  pah ! 
There  too,  thou  learn'dst  to  quaff  oblivion's  bowl, 
Filled  to  the  brim  with  foaming  printers'  ink; 
To  forget  to-morrow  what  the  day  before 
Thou  sworest  was  gospel ;  to  say,  unsay, 
And  praise  a  man  one  hour,  whom  in  the  next 
Thou  didst  consign  to  ignominious  shame, 
In  phrase  most  trim  and  delicate,  though  stolen 
From  an  old  hsh-wife,  drunk,  and  in  a  passion. 
There  too,  amid  the  din  of  politics  and  lies, 
Thou  learn'dst  to  be  a  judge  inflexible 
Of  public  virtue  and  of  private  worth; 
To  moot  nice  points  of  morals ;  and  decide 
On  things  obscure,  that  for  long  ages  past 
Have  puzzled  all  mankind,  and  dried  the  brains 
Of  luckless  sages  to  the  very  bottom. 
Bare  as  mud-puddles  in  a  six  months'  drought. 

*'  Hail  MUSE  THK  TENTH,  worth  all  the  other  nine ! 
Presiding  genius  of  our  liberties. 
We  hail  thee  on  our  knees,  and  humbly  beg, 
Thou'lt  not  forget  who  'twas,  in  modern  days. 
First  call'd  thee  from  oblivion,  and  install'd  thee 
Goddess  of  men,  whom  gods  and  men  do  fear." 

The  alderman  boasts  that  the  poem  is  soon  to  be 
published  simultaneously  in  five  different  languages, 
in  five  different  countries,  by  five  different  booksellers, 
with  five  puffs  of  five  first-rate  journals  in  each  lan- 
guage. We  think  the  friends  of  the  author  had 
better  advise  him  to  leave  out  the  invocation. 

"  There  is  a  rock,"  continues  the  worthy  alderman, 
in  great  wrath,  "  on  Mount  Ida,  all  covered  with  dia- 
monds, better  than  you  can  make  of  charcoal,  where 
I  would  recommend  the  ladies  to   stop,  and  supply 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       197 

themselves  for  the  Springs,  instead  of  flaunting  about 
in  chemical  jewels,  as  is  the  fashion  now.  And  here 
I  must  beg  leave  to  digress  a  little,  to  offer  my  testi- 
mony against  the  progress  of  knowledge,  which,  when 
accompanied  by  a  corresponding  progress  in  vice  and 
dishonesty,  is  a  curse  rather  than  a  blessing.  If  there 
is  a  thorough-going  rascal  and  cheat  in  this  world, 
it  is  chemistry,  who  is  perpetually  practising  decep- 
tions upon  mankind.  The  scoundrel  can  imitate,  or 
disguise,  every  thing.  He  can  make  a  piece  of  glass 
into  diamonds,  rubies,  sapphires,  and  topazes,  so  that 
none  but  a  jeweller,  who  is  commonly  as  great  a 
rogue  as  himself,  can  detect  them.  He  can  make  ex- 
cellent beer,  without  either  malt  or  hops ;  and,  what  is 
worthy  of  remark,  it  will  not  poison  a  man  half  as 
soon  as  arsenic  or  copperas.  He  can  make  tea  out 
of  turnip-tops,  so  as  to  deceive  a  China  merchant ;  he 
can  make  gas  out  of  coal-cinders,  and  money  out  of 
gas ;  he  can  extract  the  red  ink  out  of  a  check,  and 
leave  the  black  ink  untouched ;  he  can  change  a  bank- 
note of  one  dollar  into  one  of  a  hundred;  he  can 
adulterate  confectionery,  and  poison  half  mankind 
without  their  being  a  whit  the  wiser,  except  they  learn 
something  after  death.  In  short,  it  is  my  humble 
opinion  that,  if  the  worthy  revisers  of  our  laws  had 
decreed  to  hang  every  professor  of  chemistry,  except 
such  as  could  demonstrate  their  entire  ignorance  of 
the  science  and  would  put  their  scholars  to  learning 
trades,  it  would  prevent  the  ladies  from  wearing  false 
jewels,  and  add  greatly  to  the  honesty  of  the  rising 
generation.  It  is  bad  enough  for  women  to  wear 
false  curls,  false  faces,  and  false  hearts,  without  de- 
ceiving us  with  false  jewels.     One  can  bear  the  disap- 


198  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

poiiitment  in  the  temper  and  the  complexion,  but  to 
be  taken  in  by  the  diamonds  is  heart-breaking." 

"  Troy,"  according  to  Alderman  Janson,  "  is  already 
accommodated  with  a  bank  or  two,  without  which  our 
poor  little  helpless  villages  would  be  like  children  with- 
out nurses.  But  people  are  never  content  in  this 
world,  notwithstanding  the  march  of  mind  and  the 
progress  of  public  improvement,  and  the  Trojans  are 
at  this  moment  petitioning  the  legislature  for  another 
bank,  utterly  forgetful  of  the  old  proverb  that  too 
much  of  a  good  thing  is  good-for-nothing.  Were  I 
to  define  a  legislature  of  the  present  approved  fashion, 
I  would  say,  it  was  a  public  body  exclusively  occupied 
with  private  business ;  for,  in  truth,  were  we  to  look 
closely  at  their  proceedings,  we  should  find  almost  all 
of  them  spending  the  whole  of  their  time  in  passing 
bills  for  banks,  incorporating  companies  for  the  most 
frivolous  purposes,  mending  old  charters,  and  making 
new  ones.  In  the  mean  while,  the  general  interests 
of  the  people  are  neglected,  and  laws  affecting  the 
whole  community  either  not  passed  at  all,  or  passed 
so  full  of  imperfections  that  it  is  more  trouble  to  mend 
them  afterwards  than  to  make  new  ones.  A  plague 
on  this  busy  spirit  which  is  called  the  spirit  of  im- 
provement, but  which  is  nothing  more  than  an  imper- 
tinent disposition  to  meddle  with  the  concerns  of  other 
people,  and  so  substitute  our  own  theoretical  notions 
in  place  of  the  practical  experience  of  others.  Why 
not,  '  let  very  well  alone  '  ? 

"  I  once  had  two  near  neighbours,  who  lived  in  a 
couple  of  old-fashioned  Dutch  houses,  which,  though 
they  made  no  great  figure  without,  were  very  snug 
and  comfortable  within,  and  accorded  very  well  with 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  199 

the  circumstances  of  the  owners,  which  were  but 
moderate.  One  of  the  houses  had  sunk  a  few  inches 
at  one  of  the  corners,  in  consequence  of  some  defect 
in  the  foundation ;  but  this  had  happened  twenty 
years  before,  and  the  building  had  ever  since  remained 
perfectly  stable,  being  reckoned  not  the  least  injured, 
or  the  worse  for  this  little  eccentricity  of  shape.  -The 
other  house  had  some  trifling  defect  in  the  chimney, 
which,  although  it  might  as  well  not  have  been  there, 
was  of  no  serious  importance.  Both  occupants  lived 
perfectly  content,  and,  if  a  wish  would  have  removed 
these  imperfections,  they  would  hardly  have  taken  the 
trouble  to  utter  it. 

"  In  process  of  time,  however,  the  spirit  of  improve- 
ment got  into  our  part  of  the  town,  and  some  great 
little  busybody  suggested,  to  the  owners  of  the  two 
houses,  the  perfect  ease  with  which  the  sunken  corner 
and  the  crooked  chimney  might  be  remedied  at  a 
trifling  expense.  At  first,  they  wisely  shook  their 
heads ;  but  the  advice  was  repeated  every  day,  and 
e very-body  knows  that  the  perpetual  repetition  of  the 
same  thing  is  like  the  dropping  of  water  —  it  will 
wear  away  a  stone  at  last.  My  two  neighbours  at 
length  began  to  talk  over  the  matter  seriously  together, 
and  one  day  came  to  consult  me.  '  Let  very  well 
alone,'  said  I ;  and  they  went  away,  according  to  cus- 
tom, to  do  exactly  contrary  to  the  advice  they  came  to 
solicit.  The  owner  of  the  house  with  the  sunken  cor- 
ner, and  he  of  the  crooked  chimney,  the  next  day  went 
to  work  under  the  direction  of  the  disciple  of  public 
improvements,  to  remedy  these  mortal  annoyances 
which  they  had  borne  for  more  than  twenty  years  with 
the  most  perfect  unconcern.     One  got  a  great  jack- 


200  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

screw  under  the  delinquent  corner ;  the  other  raised  a 
mighty  beam  against  his  chimney;  and  to  work  they 
went,  screwing  and  pushing  with  a  vengeance.  In 
less  than  fifteen  minutes,  the  crooked  chimney,  being 
stubborn  with  age,  and  withal  somewhat  infirm,  in- 
stead of  quietly  returning  to  the  perpendicular,  broke 
short  off,  and  falling  through  the  roof,  upon  the  garret 
floor,  carried  that  with  it,  and  the  whole  mass  stopped 
not  to  rest,  till  it  found  solid  bottom  in  the  cellar.  It 
was  well  that  the  dame  and  all  the  children  were  out 
of  doors,  witnessing  the  progress  of  the  experiment. 
Here  was  an  honest,  comfortable  little  Dutch  house, 
sacrificed  to  the  improvement  of  a  crooked  chimney. 

"  The  man  of  the  sunken  corner  succeeded,  to  his 
utter  satisfaction,  in  placing  the  four  angles  on  a 
level,  and  was  delighted  with  his  improvement;  until, 
going  into  his  house,  he  beheld  with  dismay,  that  the 
shock  given  to  the  old  edifice,  and  the  disturbance  of 
its  various  parts  which  had  been  cemented  by  time 
into  one  solid  mass,  had  cracked  his  walls  so  that  they 
looked  like  a  fish-net,  broken  the  window-sills,  moved 
the  ends  of  the  beams  in  their  ancient  resting-places, 
and,  in  short,  wrecked  the  whole  establishment.  It 
was  become  like  a  sieve,  and,  the  next  time  it  rained, 
the  whole  family  came  out  like  drowned  rats.  There 
was  not  a  dry  square  foot  in  the  house,  nor  a  dry 
thread  on  its  occupants. 

"  The  poor  man  set  himself  to  work  to  remedy  , 
these  inconveniences,  and  from  time  to  time  laid  out 
a  great  deal  of  money,  in  stopping  crannies,  and  set- 
ting the  dislocated  limbs.  But  all  would  not  do  — 
the  whole  frame  of  the  edifice  had  been  shaken  to  its 
centre  by  the  disturbance  of  its  parts.     There  was  no 


I 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  201 

mending  it ;  and  nothing  was  left  but  to  pull  it  down, 
and  build  a  new  one,  with  all  the  modern  improve- 
ments. The  lord  of  the  crooked  chimney  also  re- 
solved to  do  the  same.  But  the  man  who  begins  to 
dig  a  new  cellar  very  often  commences  undermining 
his  own  prosperity.  The  houses  were  at  last  finished, 
and  very  fine  houses  they  were  —  but  they  did  not 
belong  to  the  owners.  They  were  mortgaged  for 
more  than  half  they  were  worth,  and,  in  process  of 
time  money  growing  very  scarce,  they  were  sold  for 
just  enough  to  satisfy  the  creditors.  The  end  of  all 
was,  that  my  good  neighbours  had  exchanged  the 
little  houses,  with  the  sunken  corner  and  crooked 
chimney,  for  an  immense  mansion,  without  walls  or 
chimney.  They  were  literally  turned  out  of  doors. 
'  I  wish  we  had  let  very  well  alone,'  said  they  to  me, 
as  they  departed  to  the  wilderness,  to  begin  the  world 
anew."  Truly,  mine  uncle,  the  worthy  alderman,  was 
at  least  three  thousand  years  behind  the  spirit  of  the 
age.  Is  it  not  better  to  live  in  fine  houses  belonging 
to  other  people,  than  in  little  old-fashioned  ones  of 
our  own  ?  We  wish  the  alderman  were  alive  to  an- 
swer this  question. 

If  the  traveller,  in  his  impatience  to  arrive  at  the 
Springs,  thinks  we  get  on  too  slowly,  let  him  leave 
us  and  our  book  behind  him,  and  take  the  conse- 
quences. Does  he  think  we  are  a  high-pressure 
steam-boat,  to  travel  fifteen  miles  an  hour  without 
stopping  a  moment  to  look  round  and  consider  ?  Or, 
is  he  so  desperately  unlettered  and  behindhand  with 
the  spirit  of  the  age,  as  to  entertain,  in  the  barren 
waste  of  his  mind,  the  notion  that  the  business  of 
book-making  is  like  that  of  brick-making,   a   plain, 


202       THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

straightforward  handicraft  affair,  wherein  a  man  has 
nothing  to  do  but  mind  his  own  business?  Belike 
he  does  not  know  that,  to  make  a  book,  it  is  necessary 
to  tell  all  that  other  people  have  told  before — to  ex- 
pand the  little  grains  of  gold-dust,  which  other  pains- 
taking authors  have  picked  up  with  infinite  labour, 
till,  like  the  gold-beater,  he  makes  them  cover  the 
leaves  of  a  whole  folio.  Perhaps  he  has  never  heard 
of  Johannes  Secundus,  who  spun  a  whole  volume  of 
poetry  out  of  a  kiss —  nor  of  the  ever-to-be-renowncd 
and  never-to-be-forgotten  writer,  who  divided  the  half 
of  an  idea  into  six  parts,  and  manufactured  a  volume 
out  of  each  portion — nor  of  the  still-greater  genius, 
whom  we  place  on  the  tip  of  the  highest  hair  in  the 
head  of  Milton,  Shakspeare,  Cervantes,  and  Voltaire, 
who  composed  sixteen  works  without  any  idea  at  all. 
Preserve  us!  —  any  fool  may  write  with  his  head  full 
of  ideas  ;  but  no  one  knows  the  troubles  of  an  author 
who  is  obliged  to  pick  up  his  crumbs  by  the  way-side 
—  to  diverge  to  the  right  and  to  the  left  —  to  levy 
contributions  upon  every  thing  and  every-body  he 
meets  —  to  skim  the  froth  of  wit,  and  dip  up  the  sed- 
iment of  wisdom  —  to  repeat  the  same  thing  in  a  hun- 
dred different  ways,  and  disguise  it  each  time  in  such 
a  manner  that  the  most  inquisitive  blue-stocking  can- 
not detect  it,  even  with  the  aid  of  her  spectacles  and 
the  reviewers.  This  —  this  is  travail,  this  is  mighty 
toil ;  and  it  is  the  industrious  writers  of  such  books 
that  should  be  rewarded  with  money  and  immortal- 
ity, since  the  labourer  is  always  worthy  of  his  hire. 
He  works  premeditatingly,  and,  as  it  were,  with  mal- 
ice aforethought;  he  makes,  by  dint  of  hard  and 
long  exertion,  the  most  meagre  soil  productive,  while 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  203 

your  boasted  genius  merely  scratches  the  surface  of 
the  rich  alluvium,  and,  behold  I,  the  product  is  a  hun- 
dred-fold. Therefore  it  is,  we  say  again,  and  repeat 
it  three  hundred  times,  that  if  the  travelling  reader  is 
not  willing  to  wait  with  us  till  we  have  finished  de- 
scanting on  the  Trojans,  let  him  go  on  and  welcome. 
We  wash  our  hands  of  him,  and  there  is  an  end  of 
the  matter. 

Nobody  knows  the  difficulty  under  which  we  un- 
fortunate authors  labour  in  writing  a  book,  to  avoid 
running  our  heads  against  the  rascally  ancients,  or  the 
still  more  rascally  moderns,  who  got  the  start  of  us, 
and  stole  all  our  ideas  before  they  came  down  to  pos- 
terity. They  have  not  left  us  a  single  original  idea 
to  our  backs,  but  have  swallowed  up  every  thing  with 
a  most  insatiable  appetite  ;  insomuch  that  the  writers 
of  the  present  day  are,  for  the  most  part,  obliged  to 
become  absurd  or  unintelligible,  in  order  to  strike  out 
a  miserable,  half-starved  novelty,  which  perishes  per- 
adventure  at  the  end  of  a  year,  in  spite  of  the  dry- 
nursing  and  stall-feeding  of  diurnal  puffers.  The  art 
of  printing  has  ruined  literature,  and  destroyed  the 
value  of  learning.  Before  this  mischievous  invention, 
which  is  justly  ascribed  to  the  devil,  a  manuscript 
was  a  treasure,  and  the  writer  of  it  a  phenomenon. 
It  was  read  at  the  Olympic  games,  and  the  author 
was  crowned  with  bays  and  considered  on  a  footing 
with  the  victors  in  the  chariot  races  and  boxing 
matches.  Then,  a  manuscript  was  a  bonne-bouche 
for  epicures  on  high  days  and  holidays ;  now,  a  book 
is  no  more  of  a  rarity  than  bacon  and  greens  in  Vir- 
ginia, and  the  clodhopper  of  this  country  returns  from 
his  daily  labours  to  a  newspaper,  as    to    his    usual 


204  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

supper-fare.  Then,  too,  the  fortunate  man  who  got 
possession  of  the  precious  papyrus  or  the  invaluable 
parchment  roll,  had  it  all  to  himself,  and  could  borrow 
what  he  pleased,  without  being  called  upon  to  pay  the 
penalty  of  being  cut  up  in  a  review.  There  was  no 
such  thing  as  plagiarism,  at  least  there  was  no  finding 
it  out,  which  is  quite  synonymous.  Even  in  later 
days,  after  the  pernicious  and  diabolical  art  of  mul- 
tiplying books  to  infinity  prevailed,  we  find,  that  a 
criminal  who  could  read  might  plead  the  benefit  of 
clergy,  and,  if  it  was  decided,  "  legit  ut  clericus,''^  he 
was  only  burnt  in  the  hand,  instead  of  being  hanged. 
But  now,  in  good  faith,  if  (I  say  not  every  man  wlio 
can  read,  but)  every  man  who  has  written  a  book, 
were  to  escape  hanging,  Jack  Ketch  would  hold  a 
sinecure,  and  there  would  be  great  robbing  of  the  gal- 
lows. It  is,  without  doubt,  greatly  to  be  lamented, 
that  the  practice  of  burning  books  by  the  hands  of 
the  common  hangman  and  cutting  olT  the  ears  of  their 
authors  is  no  longer  in  fashion.  In  this  way  the 
world  got  rid  of  some  of  these  crying  nuisances,  and 
many  were  thereby  discouraged  from  inflicting  any 
more  of  them  upon  their  unfortunate  fellow-creatures. 
But  now,  forsooth,  such  is  the  license  allowed  or 
claimed,  that  the  least  morsel  of  a  man  will  set  him 
down  pen  in  hand,  intermeddle  with  the  deepest  mat- 
ters, run  away  with  a  subject  he  knows  not  what  to 
do  with  when  he  has  got  it,  and  thereby  prevent  some 
great  scholar  from  thereafter  doing  it  justice.  Verily, 
little  men  should  never  meddle  with  great  matters,  as 
the  fable  aptly  advises. 

A  cunning,  dexterous   angler  once  threw  his  line 
into  a  deep  clear  stream,  where  he  waited  patiently 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  205 

and  watchfully,  till  he  saw  a  fine  trout  slowly  come 
forth  from  his  profound  recess  under  the  cool  shady 
bank,  and  float  cautiously  towards  the  bait.  But, 
just  as  he  was  about  swallowing  it,  a  little  rascally 
minnow,  not  as  long  as  my  finger,  darted  before  him, 
took  hold  of  the  hook,  and  skirred  away  with  it  to 
the  shallowest  part  of  the  brook.  The  trout  swam 
slowly  back  to  his  retreat,  and  the  angler,  pulling  up 
the  minnow  and  taking  it  in  his  hand,  exclaimed : 
"  Thou  art  so  small  and  contemptible,  that  I  would 
let  thee  go  again,  were  it  not  that  thy  impertinent 
meddling  lost  me  a  fine  trout."  So  saying,  he  cast 
it  indignantly  on  the  sand,  where  it  perished  miser- 
ably in  the  noontide  sun. 

It  is  refreshing  to  see  the  advances  made  in  dress, 
and  other  evidences  of  the  "  march  of  mind,  and  the 
progress  of  public  improvement,"  in  Troy,  and  in  all 
our  little  villages  and  thriving  towns.  Every  church 
is  as  fine  as  a  fiddle  on  Sundays,  and  what  it  wants  in 
heads  it  makes  up  in  hats.  The  fashions  of  New 
York  are  adopted  with  as  much  facility  in  a  country 
village  as  the  dress  of  a  Parisian  opera-dancer  is  imi- 
tated in  New  York,  and  the  same  rules  are  followed 
in  adapting  them  to  the  figure  and  person.  If,  for 
instance,  a  belle  is  about  six  feet  high,  she  is  content 
with  a  hat  six  feet  in  circumference,  with  the  con- 
tents of  one  milliner's  shop  on  it,  by  way  of  ornament. 
But  if  she  is  but  four  feet  one,  it  is  agreeable  to  the 
fashionable  rules  of  proportion  to  make  up  in  hat  for 
the  deficiency  in  height.  She  must  have  a  hat  twice 
as  large  as  the  lady  of  six  feet,  and  two  milliners' 
shops  at  least  to  ornament  its  vast  expanse.  This  is 
according  to  the   law  of  nature,  which  bestows  the 


206  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

largest  tops  on  the  lowest  trees,  and  gives  to  the  cab- 
bage a  head  bigger  than  that  of  a  sunflower.  Some 
egregious  cynics  will  have  it,  that  a  lady  ought  to 
wear  a  hat  somewhat  in  reference  to  the  size  of  the 
town  she  inhabits,  and  never  one  larger  than  the  town 
itself,  as  we  are  informed  has  been  the  case  in  two  or 
three  instances.  It  is  observed  that  the  toadstool  — 
the  only  thing  in  nature  whose  proportions  resemble 
a  fashionable  woman  of  the  present  dynasty  —  never 
spreads  its  umbrella  beyond  the  stump  which  it  pro- 
ceeds from,  and  it  is  argued  that  this  rule  should 
govern  a  lady's  bonnet.  But  it  is  dillicult  to  persuade 
the  sex  to  adopt  the  old-fashioned  notions  about  taste 
and  proportion,  which  have  been  entirely  superseded 
by  the  march  of  mind  and  the  progress  of  public  im- 
provement. And  so  nmch  the  better.  A  woman  who 
never  changes,  even  from  bad  to  worse,  is  no  better 
than  a  rusty  weathercock,  which  never  shows  which 
way  the  wind  blows.  Nevertheless  people,  and  par- 
ticularly women  and  bantams,  ought  never  to  carry 
their  heads  too  high,  as  the  following  pregnant  ex- 
ample showeth. 

One  day,  a  little  bantam-cock,  with  a  high  topknot, 
who  was  exceedingly  vain  because  he  had  so  many 
feathers  to  his  legs  that  he  could  hardly  walk,  seeing 
a  goose  duck  her  head  in  passing  under  a  bar  at 
least  six  feet  high,  thus  accosted  her :  "  Why,  thou 
miserable,  bare-legged  caitiffi  thou  shovel-nosed,  web- 
footed,  pigeon-toed  scavenger  of  the  highways !  thou 
fool  of  three  elements!  not  content  with  ignominiously 
crawling  under  a  fence,  thou  must  even  nod  thy  empty 
pate,  by  way  of  confessing  thy  inferiority.  Behold 
how  we  bantams  do  these  things  I "     So  saying,  with 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  207 

a  great  deal  of  puffing  and  fluttering,  with  the  help 
of  his  bill,  he  managed  to  gain  the  top  of  the  fence, 
where  he  clapped  his  wings,  and  was  just  on  the 
point  of  crowing  in  triumph,  when  a  great  hawk,  that 
was  sailing  over  his  head,  pounced  down  on  him,  and, 
seizing  him  by  the  topknot,  carried  him  off  without 
ceremony.  The  goose,  cocking  her  eye,  and  taking  a 
side  view  of  the  affair,  significantly  shook  her  feathers, 
and,  the  next  time  she  passed  under  a  bar,  bowed  her 
head  lower  than  ever. 

The  march  of  mind  and  progress  of  public  improve- 
ment in  the  country  towns  and  villages  appears,  more- 
over, in  the  great  progress  made  in  good  eating,  and 
other  elegant  luxuries.  The  great  republican  patent 
of  nobility,  dyspepsy,  is  almost  as  common  in  these, 
as  in  New  York,  where  our  valet,  a  gentleman  of 
colour,  is  grievously  afflicted  with  it,  and  has  taken 
to  white  mustard-seed.  We  have  eaten  such  dinners 
among  the  burghers  of  Troy  as  would  have  made 
old  Homer's  mouth  water,  could  he  have  seen  them. 
They  actually  emulated  those  of  a  first-rate  broker, 
who  does  not  owe  above  twice  as  much  as  he  ever 
expects  to  pay,  and  can  therefore  afford  to  be  liberal. 
This  giving  of  good  dinners  at  the  expense  of  other 
people  is  a  capital  expedient  in  economy,  particularly 
deserving  of  imitation.  What  can  be  more  delightful 
than  to  see  our  companions  enjoying  themselves  in 
the  most  glorious  of  all  sublunary  delights,  at  the 
expense  of  any  body  that  will  lend  us  money  ?  —  thus 
making  friends,  and  gaining  immortal  glory  as  a  gen- 
erous fellow,  without  a  penny  of  one's  own  in  pocket! 
People  are  always  so  grateful  too  for  good  dinners, 
insomuch  that  we   have   known  a  "  damned  liberal, 


208  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

open-hearted  fellow,"  as  he  was  called,  who  had  ruined 
three  or  four  of  his  acquaintances,  by  giving  fine  ban- 
quets at  their  cost,  that  was  actually  invited  afterwards, 
three  times,  to  take  potluck  with  some  of  his  stall-fed 
friends,  who  had  grown  fat  upon  him.  We  remember 
being  at  one  of  this  bountiful  gentleman's  treats,  when 
the  following  toast  was  drunk  with  great  applause, 
while  he  was  called  out  by  an  impertinent  creditor: 
"Long  live  our  hospitable  entertainer!  —  if  he  don't 
outlive  his  money."  On  the  subject  of  these  village 
feasts  and  sylvan  luxuries,  see  Spafford's  Gazetteer,* 
for  many  honest  and  excellent  remarks.  As  a  fellow- 
labourer  in  enlightening  travellers,  we  heartily  and 
seriously  recommend  his  work  to  the  public  patronage. 
Let  it  not  be  understood  that  we  singled  out  Troy 
as  particularly  distinguished  in  these  elegant  extrava- 
gances. Even  if  it  were,  the  inhabitants  deserve  no 
credit  above  their  neighbours,  seeing  there  are  two  or 
three  banks  in  the  town;  —  and  what  would  be  the 
use  of  banks,  if  people  did  not  spend  their  money 
faster  than  they  earn  it  ? 

It  will  hardly  be  worth  the  traveller's  while  to  visit 
Troy,  except  to  partake  of  these  good  dinners;  for, 
after  reading  our  book,  he  will  know  more  about  it 
than  he  could  learn  in  ten  visits,  and,  being  now  so 
near  the  focus  of  all  worldly  delights,  the  Springs, 
every  moment  becomes  precious.  Let  him  therefore 
keep  on  the  west  side  of  the  river,  crossing  the  Mo- 
hawk just  below  the  Cohoes  Falls,  of  which  he  will 
have  a  fine  view  from  the  bridge.  Here  he  may  stop 
fifteen  minutes  to  look  at  the  locks  which  connect  the 

[*  Hora;tio  Gates  SpaflFord,  LL.D.,  published  "  A  Gazetteer  of  the  State 


J 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  209 

great  canal  with  the  Hudson,  as  a  flight  of  steps 
connects  the  upper  and  lower  stories  of  a  house. 
"  Without  doubt,"  observes  our  old-fashioned  friend, 
Alderman  Janson,  whom  we  quote  as  the  great  apostle 
of  antediluvian  notions,  "  without  doubt,  canals  and 
locks  are  good  things  in  moderation ;  but,  somehow 
or  other,  I  think  I  have  a  prejudice  in  favour  of  rivers, 
where  they  are  to  be  had ;  and  where  they  are  not, 
people  may  as  well  make  up  their  minds  to  do  with- 
out them.  In  sober  truth,  it  is  my  firm  opinion,  (and 
I  don't  care  whether  any  body  agrees  with  me  or 
not),  that  the  great  operation  of  a  canal  is,  merely 
to  concentrate  on  its  line,  and  within  its  immediate 
influence,  that  wealth,  population,  and  business, 
which,  if  let  alone,  would  difl'use  themselves  naturally, 
equally,  and  beneficially  through  every  vein  and  artery 
of  the  country.  The  benefits  of  a  canal  are  confined 
to  a  certain  distance,  while  all  beyond  is  actually  in- 
jured, although  nobody  can  escape  paying  his  pro- 
portion of  the  expenses  of  its  construction." 

"  I  was  once,"  continues  the  alderman,  "  a  little 
mad  myself  in  the  canal  way,  like  most  people,  and 
actually  made  a  pilgrimage  in  a  canal-boat  all  the 
way  to  Buffalo.  I  found  every-body  along  the  sides 
of  the  canal  delighted  with  the  vast  public  benefits  of 
these  contrivances;  they  could  sell  the  product  of 
their  lands,  and  the  lands  themselves,  for  twice  or 
thrice  as  much  as  formerly.  I  rubbed  my  hands  with 
great  satisfaction,  and  was  more  in  love  with  canals 
I  than  ever.  Returning,  I  diverged  from  the  line  of  the 
canal,  into  some  of  the  more  remote  counties,  and 
I  found  all  the  people  scratching  their  heads.  '  What  is 
'the  matter,  good  people  all,  of  every  sort?  What 
I  14 


210  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

can  you  want,  now  that  the  great  canal  is  finished?' 
*  The  devil  take  the  great  canal,'  cried  all  with  one 
voice :  '  every  body  is  mad  to  go  and  settle  on  the 
canal.'  '  To  be  sure  they  are,  my  good  friends  and 
fellow-citizens,  and  that  is  the  beauty  of  a  canal ;  it 
raises  the  price  of  land,  within  a  certain  distance,  to 
double  what  it  was  before.'  '  Yes,  and  it  lowers  the 
price  of  land  not  within  a  certain  distance  in  an  equal, 
if  not  greater,  proportion.  Nobody  thinks  of  coming 
here  to  settle  now  —  they  are  all  for  the  canal.'  Oho, 
thought  I ;  then  a  canal  has  two  sides,  as  well  as  two 
ends." 

The  alderman  then  goes  on  to  moralize  on  the  diffi- 
culty of  increasing  the  actual  quantity  of  good  in 
this  world  —  maintaining  that  what  is  gained  in  one 
place  is  lost  in  another;  that  j)ublic  improvements 
are,  for  the  most  part,  private  speculations ;  and  that 
the  accumulation  of  wealth  in  a  particular  tract  of 
country,  or  in  the  hands  of  a  small  portion  of  a  com- 
munity, is  always  at  the  expense  of  the  larger  por- 
tions of  each,  and  renders  the  one  bloated,  the  others 
impotent.  This  position  he  illustrates  by  the  follow- 
ing fable. 

"  A  long  time  ago,  when  men  were  not  much  wiser 
than  pigs  are  nowadays,  the  head  became  exceed- 
ingly dissatisfied  at  seeing  the  blood  circulating  freely 
through  all  parts  of  the  body,  even  to  the  tips  of  the 
fingers  and  ends  of  the  toes,  without  discrimination, 
and  prayed  to  Jupiter  to  remedy  this  democratic, 
levelling  economy  of  nature.  The  gods  always  grant 
foolish  prayers,  and  accordingly  Jupiter  decreed  that 
the  blood  should  no  longer  circulate  to  the  extremities, 
but  confine  itself  to  certain  favoured  parts,  such  as 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  211 

the  head,  the  heart,  the  liver,  and  the  lungs,  which  in 
a  little  time  became  so  overcharged  and  unwieldy  that 
they  could  hardly  perform  their  ordinary  functions. 
The  head  grew  giddy,  the  heart  palpitated  with  oppres- 
sive struggles,  the  liver  expanded  into  turgid  inactivity, 
and  the  lungs  puffed  like  a  pair  of  bellows.  Mean- 
while the  extremities,  shut  off  from  the  stream  of 
life  thus  withdrawn  to  pamper  the  other  parts,  grad- 
!  ually  shrivelled  up,  and  lost  their  elasticity,  insomuch 
i  that  the  hands  could  no  longer  perform  their  func- 
tions, or  the  legs  support  the  overgrown  head  above 
them.  '  O  Jupiter ! '  cried  the  head,  '  restore  the  cir- 
culation of  the  blood  to  its  former  channels,  and  let 
nature  again  have  her  way.'  '  Fool ! ',  replied  Jupiter, 
I  laughing  — '  dost  thou  think  it  as  easy  to  restore,  as 
I  to  disturb,  the  order  of  nature  ?  Hadst  thou  let  her 
alone,  each  limb  and  organ  of  the  frame  to  which 
thou  belongest  would  have  equally  partaken  of  the 
support  of  life,  and  all  would  have  grown  with  a 
happy,  harmonious  proportion,  into  healthful,  mature, 
and  vigorous  manhood.  Now  it  is  too  late.  Even 
the  gods  cannot  remedy  the  consequences  of  folly, 
however  they  may  remove  its  causes.  Thou  hast 
grown  prematurely,  and  it  is  ordained  that  such  never 
live  long.  The  mushroom  of  a  night  is  the  ruin  of 
a  day.'  A  rush  of  blood  to  the  brain  brought  on 
apoplexy,  and  the  decree  of  the  gods  was  fulfilled." 

The  ride  along  the  glorious  Hudson,  from  the 
Mohawk  to  where  the  road  turns  Westward  to  the 
Springs,  presents  a  perpetual  succession  of  enchanting 
scenes.  But  by  this  time  the  inquisitive  traveller  is, 
doubtless,  full  of  anticipations  of  the  delights  of  these 
t'lhereal  fountains,  where  a  thousand  nymphs,  more 


212  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

beautiful,  or  at  least  better  dressed,  than  ever  haunted 
legendary  stream  or  crystal  spring  of  yore,  quaff  the 
inspiring  beverage,  till  —  till  one  is  astonished  what 
becomes  of  it!  We  will  therefore  delay  him  no 
longer.  Perish  the  beauties  of  nature!  What  are 
they  all  when  compared  with  those  exquisite  combi- 
nations of  art  and  nature,  which  puzzle  the  under- 
standing to  decide  which  had  the  most  to  do  in  their 
production,  the  milliner  or  the  goddess ! 


BALLSTON. 

The  first  view  of  Ballston  generally  has  the  same 
effect  upon  visitors  that  matrimony  is  said  to  have 
upon  young  lovers.  It  is  very  extraordinary,  but  the 
first  impression  —  we  mean  of  Ballston  —  is  that  it  is 
the  ugliest,  most  uninviting  spot  in  the  universe.  But 
this  impression  soon  wears  away,  as  the  tourist  daily 
associates  with  beautiful  damsels,  the  lustre  of  whose 
unfading  and  ineffable  charms  diffuses  itself  as  it 
were  over  the  whole  face  of  nature,  converting  the 
ugly  swamp  into  a  green  meadow,  the  muddy  brook 
into  a  pellucid  rivulet  meandering  musically  along, 
the  mounds  of  sand  into  full-bosomed  hills,  and  Sans 
Souci  into  the  palace  of  the  fairy  Feliciana,  where, 
as  every -body  knows,  people  were  so  happy  they  did 
not  know  what  to  do  with  themselves.  We  defy- 
any  man  to  be  surrounded  by  beautiful  women,  even 
though  it  were  in  utter  darkness,  without  having 
his  imagination  exclusively  saturated  with  ideas  of 
grace  and  loveliness,  let  the  surrounding  objects  be 
what  they  may.     For,  as  the  poet  has  it :  — 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  213 

*  The  eye  of  beauty,  like  the  glorious  sun, 
Casts  a  reflected  lustre  all  around, 
Making  deformity  itself  partake 
In  its  wide-glowing  splendours." 

The  localities  of  Ballston  and  Saratoga  are  en- 
nobled and  illustrated  by  this  singular  influence  of 
beauty.  It  must  be  confessed,  if  they  depended  only 
on  their  own  intrinsic  capabilities  they  would  be  no 
way  extraordinary.  Yet,  to  do  them  justice,  they  are 
not  altogether  desperate  as  to  pretensions.  If  the  mar- 
shes were  only  meadows,  dotted  with  majestic  elms ; 
the  sand-hills  richly  cultivated  with  fields  of  wheat  and 
corn ;  the  sluggish  brook  a  pastoral,  purling  river ;  the 
pine  trees  stately  forests  of  oak  and  hickory,  and  their 
stumps  a  little  more  picturesque ;  —  neither  Ballston 
nor  Saratoga  need  be  ashamed  to  show  itself  any 
day  in  the  week,  not  excepting  Sunday.  As  it  is, 
candour  itself  must  admit  that  their  attractions  are 
altogether  reflected  from  the  ladies'  eyes. 

Being  now  arrived  at  the  head-quarters,  the  very 
focus  and  hot-bed  of  elegance,  fashion,  and  refine- 
ment, it  becomes  us  to  be  more  particular  in  our 
directions  to  the  inexperienced  traveller,  who  perad- 
vonture  hath  never  sojourned  at  a  watering-place. 
For  this  purpose  we  have  with  great  pains,  and  at 
the  expense  of  a  vast  deal  of  actual  observation  and 
thought,  collected,  digested,  and  codified,  a  system  of 
rules  and  regulations,  derived  from  the  best  sources, 
and  sanctioned  by  the  example  of  people  of  the  v(^ry 
first  tournure  as  well  as  the  most  finished  education  : 
i()  wit,  brokers  of  eminence,  retired  bankrupts  living 
upon  their  means,  aspiring  apprentices,  and  dandies 
of  the  first  pretensions.  For  the  purpose  of  being 
more  succinct,  clear,   and   explicit,  we   have  divided 


214  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

our  code  into  chapters,  comprising  a  complete  set  of 
precepts  for  the  government  of  every  class  of  persons, 
beginning,  however,  with  a  few  general  rules  and 
standing  directions  of  universal  application. 


CHAPTER   I. 


OF   LODGINGS. 


The  first  requisite  on  arriving  at  either  Ballston  or 
Saratoga  is  to  procure  lodgings.  In  the  choice  of  a 
house,  the  traveller  will  do  well  to  consult  the  news- 
papers, to  see  if  the  landlord  has  a  proper  conception 
of  the  art  of  pufhng  himself,  without  wliich,  we  affirm 
without  fear  of  contradiction,  no  man  has  any  legiti- 
mate claim  to  fashionable  notoriety.  A  fellow  who 
has  not  interest  to  raise  a  puff  must  be  something 
worse  than  a  swindler  or  a  murderer.  We  are  aware 
that  certain  wiseacres,  with  even  less  money  than  wit, 
and  less  knowledge  of  the  world  than  a  bookworm, 
have  been  pleased  on  divers  occasions  to  ridicule  this 
system  of  puffs  and  recommendations,  as  exclusively 
appertaining  to  quackery  in  medicine.  But  let  us  tell 
them  to  their  teeth,  that  a  system  applicable  to  quack 
doctors  has  been  found,  by  actual  experience,  to  an- 
swer just  as  well  for  quack  lawyers,  quack  parsons, 
quack  politicians,  quack  philosophers,  quack  poets, 
quack  novelists,  quack  publicans,  and  quacks  of  all 
sorts,  sizes,  dimensions,  qualities,  appurtenances,  and 
pretensions.  "  Let  them  laugh  that  win,"  said  the 
renowned  Pedagogus,  who  once  compiled  a  book  in 


THE  NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  215 

which  he  made  the  unparalleled  and  gigantic  improve- 
ment of  spelling  words  as  they  are  pronounced,  in- 
stead of  pronouncing  them  as  they  are  speUed.  By 
selling  his  book  at  a  great  discount,  he  got  all  the 
school-masters  —  we  beg  pardon  —  principals  of  gym- 
nasia, and  of  polytechnic,  philotechnic,  chirographic, 
and  adelphic  academies,  to  recommend  it.  Honest 
Thomas  Dilworth  forthwith  hid  his  powdered  head, 
especially  when,  in  addition  to  this,  upwards  of  three 
hundred  great  politicians,  who  were,  ex  officio,  scholars 
and  philosophers,  recommended  the  book  as  a  most 
valuable  work,  distinctly  marking  the  progress  of 
mind  and  the  astonishing  strides  of  the  gigantic  spirit 
of  the  age.  All  the  rational  people  then  living,  of 
whom  however  there  were  not  above  a  hundred  mil- 
lions, laughed  most  consumedly  at  the  sage  Peda- 
gogus  and  his  certificates ;  but  he  only  replied,  "  Let 
them  laugh  that  win."  The  sage  Pedagogus,  in  the 
course  of  twenty  years,  sold  upwards  of  sLx  million 
copies  of  his  book,  and  made  his  fortune.  Where 
was  the  greater  wisdom  ?  in  the  sage  Pedagogus,  or 
in  the  people  that  laughed  at  him  ? 

Therefore  it  is  we  say  again,  and  again,  repeating 
it  three  thousand  times  to  all  who  will  listen,  go  to 
the  house  that  has  the  greatest  number  of  puffs  to  its 
back,  although  it  may,  and  doubtless  does,  sometimes 
happen,  that  they  are  indited  by  some  honest  man 
of  the  quill,  who  has  settled  his  bill  by  bartering  his 
praise  for  the  landlord's  pudding. 


216  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 


CHAPTER  n. 

OF   DRINKING   THE   WATERS. 

There  is  no  doubt,  in  the  opinion  of  those  who  have 
observed  the  vast  progress  of  the  human  mind  since 
the  discovery  of  the  new  planet  Herschel  and  the  in- 
vention of  self-sharpening  pencils,  that  the  ancients 
laboured  under  the  disease  of  a  constipated  under- 
standing. Else  they  could  never  have  differed  as  they 
did  about  the  summum  honum,  or  great  good,  hold- 
ing at  least  three  hundred  different  opinions,  some 
of  which  were  inexpressibly  absurd ;  as,  for  instance, 
that  which  pointed  out  the  practice  of  virtue  as  the 
only  foundation  of  happiness.  But,  ever  since  the  dis- 
covery of  the  new  planet  and  the  self-sharpening 
pencil,  and,  above  all,  the  invention  of  the  chess- 
playing  automaton,  all  rational  animals,  from  the 
philosopher  to  the  learned  j^ii?,  unite  in  pronouncing 
a  good  appetite,  with  the  wherewithal  to  satisfy  it,  to 
be  the  real,  and  only,  summum  bonum,  the  fountain 
of  all  our  knowledge,  as  well  as  the  source  of  all 
substantial  happiness.  How  is  it  that  the  said  pig 
is  taught  the  noble  science  of  A,  B,  C,  except  through 
the  medium  of  his  appetite  ?  and  what  impels  the 
animal,  man,  to  the  exertion  of  his  faculties,  bodily 
and  mental,  but  his  appetite?  Necessity,  says  the 
old  proverb,  is  the  mother  of  invention.  Now,  what 
is  necessity,  but  hunger  ?  The  vital  importance  of  a 
good  appetite  cannot  be  better  illustrated  than  by  the 
following  passage  from  the  works  of  M.  Huet,  bishop 
of  Avranches,  the  most  learned  man  of  his  age,  if  not 
the  most  learned  man  of  any  age.     "  Whenever,"  says 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  217 

he,  "  I  receive  letters  late  in  the  evening,  or  very  near 
the  time  of  dining,  I  lay  them  by  for  another  oppor- 
tunity. Letters  generally  convey  more  bad  news  than 
good ;  so  that,  on  reading  them  either  at  night  or  at 
noon,  I  am  sure  to  spoil  my  aiypetite^  or  my  repose." 

It  is  doubtless  in  the  pursuit  of  this  chief  good,  a 
good  appetite,  and  the  means  of  satisfying  it,  that 
thousands  of  people  flock  to  the  Springs,  from  all 
quarters.  It  is  in  this  quest  they  exchange  the  delight 
of  making  money,  for  the  honour  of  spending  it;  it  is 
for  this  the  matron  quits  the  comforts  of  her  domestic 
circle,  to  mingle  in  the  crowd  by  day,  and  sleep  at 
night  in  a  room  six  feet  by  nine,  opening  on  a  passage 
where  the  tread  of  human  feet  is  never  intermitted, 
from  sunset  to  sunrise  —  from  sunrise  to  sunset.  It 
is  for  this  the  delicate  and  sensitive  girl  musters  her 
smiles,  nurtures  her  roses,  and  fills  her  bandboxes. 
It  is  for  this  the  snug  citizen,  who,  as  he  waxes  rich, 
becomes  poor  in  appetite  and  weak  of  digestion,  opens 
his  accumulated  hoards,  and  exchanges  the  cherished 
maxims  of  saving,  for  those  of  spending  his  money. 
It  is  for  this  the  beau  reserves  the  last  few  hundreds 
that  ought  to  go  to  the  paying  of  his  tailor,  deter- 
mined to  enjoy  the  delights  of  eating,  though  the 
artist  starve,  in  spite  of  goose  and  cabbage.  In  short, 
it  is  for  this,  and  this  alone,  that  his  grace  of  York, 
of  blessed  memory,  allowed  to  his  cook,  the  thrice- 
renowned  and  immortal  Monsieur  Ude,  twelve  hun- 
dred pounds  sterling  a  year  of  the  money  that  ought 
to  have  gone  to  the  paying  of  his  creditors,  to  whom 
his  grace  bequeathed  only  the  worst  half  of  the  sum- 
mum  bonum,  a  good  appetite,  with  nothing  to  eat. 

Next  to  a  good  appetite  for  dinner,  a  keen  relish  for 


218  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

breakfast  constitutes  the  happiness  of  our  existence. 
In  order  to  attain  to  this,  the  first  requisite  is  to  rise 
early  in  the  morning,  and  wait  a  couple  of  hours  with 
as  much  impatience  as  possible,  drinking  a  glass  of 
Congress  water  about  every  ten  minutes,  and  walking 
briskly  between  each,  till  the  walk  is  inevitably  in- 
creased to  a  trot,  and  the  trot  to  a  gallop  when  the 
preliminaries  of  a  good  appetite  for  breakfast  are 
completed.  Philosophers  and  chemists  have  never 
yet  fairly  accounted  for  this  singular  propensity  to 
running,  produced  by  the  waters,  nor  shall  we  attempt 
to  solve  the  difficulty.  It  is  sufficient  for  us  that  the 
great  good  is  attained,  in  the  acquisition  of  a  sharp 
appetite  for  breakfast.  And  here  we  will  stop  a  mo- 
ment, to  notice  a  ridiculous  calumny  of  certain  people, 
who,  we  suspect,  prefer  brandy  and  water  to  all  the 
pure  waters  of  the  Springs  :  to  wit,  that  it  is  the  morn- 
ing air  and  exercise  that  produces  this  propensity  to 
running,  and  the  keen  appetite  consequent  upon  it. 
The  refutation  of  this  absurd  notion  is  found  in  the 
fact  that  the  waters  of  Ballston  do  not  occasion  people 
to  run  half  as  fast,  and  that  consequently  they  don't 
eat  half  as  much  as  they  do  at  Saratoga.  In  truth, 
it  is  worth  a  man's  while  to  go  there  only  to  see  peo- 
ple eat :  the  amatory  philosophers,  in*  particular,  who 
maintain  that  some  young  ladies  live  upon  air,  others 
upon  the  odour  of  roses,  and  others  upon  the  Waver- 
ley  novels,  should  not  fail. 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  219 


CHAPTER  m. 

OF   EATIXG. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  be  very  particular  on  this 
head,  as  the  rules  we  have  given  in  respect  to  the 
deportment  of  the  elegant  tourist,  in  steam-boats,  will 
sufficiently  apply  to  the  Springs.  We  will  merely 
observe  that  great  vigilance  and  celerity  is  necessary, 
in  both  places,  inasmuch  as  the  viands  have  a  habit 
of  vanishing  before  one  can  say  Jack  Robinson.  One 
special  rule,  which  w^e  cannot  by  any  means  omit 
mentioning,  is,  never  to  stop  to  lose  time  in  consider- 
ing what  you  shall  eat,  or  to  help  your  neighbours ; 
if  you  do,  you  are  a  gone  man. 

We  remember  to  have  seen  a  spruce  John  Bull, 
(who,  from  his  carrying  a  memorandum-book  and 
making  frequent  notes,  was  no  doubt  a  forger  of  books 
of  travels),  who,  the  first  morning  he  attended  break- 
fast at  Congress  Hall,  afforded  us  infinite  diversion. 
He  had  placed  his  affections  most  evidently  on  a  jolly 
smoking  steak,  that,  to  say  the  honest  truth,  was  the 
object  of  our  own  secret  devoirs,  and  stood  leaning 
on  the  back  of  a  chair,  directly  opposite,  waiting  for 
that  bell  which  excels  the  music  of  the  spheres  or  of 
the  veritable  Signorina,  in  the  ears  of  a  true  amateur. 
At  the  first  tinkling  of  this  delightful  instrument,  a 
nimble  young  fellow,  from  the  purlieus  of  the  Arcade,* 
with  a  body  no  bigger  than  a  wasp,  slipped  in  be- 

[*  This  building  was  put  up  in  the  year  1826.  Commencing  about  120 
f'-et  from  Broadway  on  the  Northerly  side  of  Maiden  Lane,  it  was  from  50  to 
'jO  feet  wide,  and  ran  through  to  John  Street.  It  had  two  stories  and  an 
attic,  with  a  partially-glazed  roof.  Divided  into  a  number  of  small  fancy 
stores,  it  failed  as  a  speculation.] 


220  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

tween,  took  the  chair,  and  transferred  a  large  half  of  the 
steak  to  his  own  uses.  The  Signior  John  Bull  looked 
awfully  dignified,  but  said  nothing,  and  departed  in 
search  of  another  steak,  in  a  paroxysm  of  hunger. 
He  had  swallowed  eight  tumblers  of  Congress  that 
morning.  In  the  mean  while,  he  had  lost  the  chance 
of  getting  any  seat  at  all,  until  he  was  accon:imodated 
at  a  side-table,  where  we  detected  him  making  sev- 
eral notes  in  his  memorandum-book,  which,  without 
doubt,  bore  hard  upon  the  Yankees.  It  is  astonishing 
how  much  the  tone  of  a  travellers  book  depends  upon 
the  tone  of  his  stomach.  We  once  travelled  in  Italy 
with  an  English  book-maker  by  trade,  who  occasion- 
ally read  portions  of  his  lucubrations  to  us,  and  we 
always  had  occasion  to  notice  this  singular  connexion 
of  the  brain  and  the  stomach.  If  he  got  a  good 
breakfast,  he  let  the  Italians  off  quite  easy  ;  if  his  din- 
ner was  satisfactory,  he  grumbled  out  a  little  praise; 
but  if  he  achieved  a  good  supper  and  bed,  he  would 
actually  overflow  in  a  downright  eulogium.  But  woe 
to  Italy  if  his  breakfast  was  scanty  —  his  dinner  in- 
different—  his  supper  wanting  —  and  his  bed  peopled 
with  fleas.  Ye  powers  I  how  he  cut  and  slashed  away! 
The  country  was  naught  —  the  men  all  thieves  and 
beggars  —  the  women  no  better  than  they  should  be  — 
the  morals  good-for-nothing  —  the  religion  still  worse 
—  the  monks  a  set  of  lazy  dogs  —  and  the  pope  was 
sure  to  be  classed  with  his  old  playmate,  the  devil. 
Of  so  much  consequence  is  a  good  dinner  to  the  repu- 
tation of  nations.  It  behooves,  therefore,  all  tavern- 
keepers  to  bear  in  mind,  that  they  have  in  trust  the 
honour  of  their  country,  and  that  they  should  be  care- 
ful to  stufT  all  travellers  by  profession,  and  all  profes- 


THE    NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  221 

sors  of  the  noble  art  of  puffing,  with  the  good  things 
of  their  larders  —  to  station  a  servant  behind  the 
back  of  each  of  their  chairs,  with  special  orders  to  be 
particularly  attentive  —  and  to  give  them  the  best 
beds  in  the  house.  So  shall  their  country  flourish  in 
diurnals  and  immortal  books  of  travel,  and  taverns 
multiply  and  prosper  evermore.  There  is  no  place  in 
the  world  where  this  rule  of  feeding  people  into  good- 
humour  is  more  momentous  than  at  the  Springs, 
where  the  appetite  becomes  so  gloriously  teasing  and 
imperative,  that  it  is  credibly  reported,  in  the  annals 
of  the  bon-ton,  that  a  delicate  young  lady  did  once 
eat  up  her  beau,  in  a  rural  walk  before  breakfast. 
Certain  it  is,  the  unfortunate  young  gentleman  was 
never  heard  of,  and  his  bills  at  Congress  Hall,  and  at 
the  tailors,  remain  unpaid  even  unto  this  day. 

The  reader  will  please  to  have  a  little  patience  here, 
while  we  stop  to  take  a  pinch  of  snuff  before  we  com- 
mence another  chapter. 


CHAPTER  lY. 

OF  FASHIONABLE  TOURXURE,  AKD   THE   BEHAVIOUR  BECOMING  IN  TOUNQ 
LADIES   AT   THE   SPRINGS. 

1.  Young  ladies  should  never  flirt  very  violently, 
except  with  married  men,  or  those  engaged  to  be 
married,  because  nobody  will  suspect  they  mean  any 
harm  in  these  cases,  and,  besides,  the  pleasure  will  be 
enhanced  by  making  their  wives  and  mistresses  tol- 
erably unhappy.  Pleasure,  without  giving  pain  to 
somebody,  is  not  worth  enjoying. 


222  THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

2.  Young  ladies  should  take  special  care  of  their 
bishops.  The  loss  of  a  bishop  is  dangerous  in  other 
games  besides  chess. 

3.  Young  ladies  should  take  every  occasion  to  in- 
dulge to  excess  in  drinking  —  we  mean  the  waters  — 
because  it  is  good  for  their  complexions. 

4.  Young  ladies  should  always  sit  down,  whenever 
they  are  tired  of  dancing,  whether  other  ladies  in  the 
set  have  had  their  turn  or  not ;  and  they  should  never 
sit  down  till  they  are  tired,  under  the  vulgar  idea  of 
giving  those  a  chance  of  dancing  who  have  had  none 
before.  It  is  the  very  height  of  tournure  to  pay  not 
the  least  attention  to  the  feelings  of  other  people  — 
except  indeed  they  are  of  the  first  fashion. 

5.  If  a  young  lady  don't  like  the  people  standing 
opposite  to  her  in  the  dance,  she  ought  to  quit  her 
place  and  seek  another,  taking  care  to  give  the  said 
people  such  a  look  as  will  exphiin  her  motive. 

6.  Young  ladies  should  be  careful  to  remember  on 
all  occasions,  that,  according  to  the  most  fashionable 
decisions,  it  is  the  height  of  good  breeding  to  be 
ill-bred,  and  that  what  used  to  be  called  politeness  is 
considered  by  the  best  society  as  great  a  bore  as  the 
tunnel  under  the  Thames. 

7.  Young  ladies  should  never  forget  that  blushing 
is  a  sign  of  guilt. 

8.  Young  ladies,  and  indeed  old  ladies  too,  must 
always  bear  in  mind  that  fine  feathers  make  fine 
birds ;  and  that  the  more  feathers  they  wear,  the  more 
they  approximate  to  high  ton.  It  is  of  no  sort  of  con- 
sequence, according  to  the  present  mode,  whether  the 
dress  is  proper  for  the  occasion  or  not.  A  walking 
dress  ought  to  be  as  fine  as  one  for  an  assembly,  for 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  223 

the  peacock  spreads  his  tail  equally  on  the  top  of  a 
hen-roost  and  on  the  gate  of  a  palace.  The  infallible 
rule  for  dressing  is,  to  get  as  much  finery,  and  as 
many  colours,  as  possible,  and  put  them  all  on  at 
once.  It  looks  like  economy  to  wear  only  a  few  or- 
naments at  a  time,  and,  of  all  things  on  the  face  of 
the  earth,  nothing  is  so  low,  vulgar,  and  bourgeois^  as 
economy.  No  lady  who  utters  the  word,  even  in  her 
sleep,  can  ever  aspire  to  tournure.  We  knew  an  un- 
fortunate damsel,  who  ruined  herself  for  ever  in  good 
society,  by  being  overheard  to  say  that  she  could  not 
afford  to  buy  a  Cashmere.  She  was  unanimously 
left  out  of  the  circle  thenceforth  and  forevermore. 

9.  In  going  into  a  ball  or  supper  room  where  there 
is  a  great  crowd,  young  ladies  should  not  wait  the 
motions  of  the  married  ones,  but  push  fonvard  as  vig- 
orously as  may  be,  in  order  to  get  a  good  place ;  and 
not  mind  a  little  squeezing — it  makes  them  look 
rosy.  Nothing  that  can  possibly  happen  is  so  mortify- 
ing as  to  be  obliged  to  take  up  with  an  out-of-the- 
way  seat  at  a  supper-table,  or  the  lower  end  of  the 
room  in  a  cotillon.  We  have  known  ladies  go  into  a 
decline  in  consequence. 

10.  Young  ladies  should  always  say  they  are  en- 
gaged, when  asked  to  dance  by  a  person  they  don't 
choose  to  dance  with.  It  is  a  pious  fraud,  justified 
by  the  emergency  of  the  case. 

11.  In  walking  up  and  down  the  public  drawing- 
room,  it  is  always  fashionable  to  keep  up  a  bold  front. 
For  this  purpose,  it  is  advisable  for  five  or  six  young 
ladies  to  link  arm-in-arm,  and  sweep  the  whole  room. 
If  any  body  comes  in  the  way,  elbow  them  out  with- 
out ceremony,  and  laugh  as  loud  as  possible  to  show 
it  is  all  a  joke. 


224  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

12.  Young  ladies  should  be  sure  to  laugh  loud,  and 
talk  loud  in  public,  especially  when  they  say  an  ill- 
natured  thing  about  somebody  within  hearing  whom 
nobody  knows.  Such  people  have  no  business  at  the 
Springs.  Epsom  salts  is  good  enough  for  them.  If 
they  must  have  Congress-water,  let  them  go  to  Lynch 
&  Clark's,  and  not  bore  good  society. 

13.  Young  ladies  should  dress  as  often,  and  in  as 
great  a  variety,  as  possible.  Besides  passing  away 
the  time,  it  sometimes  achieves  wonders.  We  have 
known  an  obstinately  undecided,  undetermined,  hesi- 
tating, vacillating,  prevaricating  beau,  who  had  resist- 
ed all  the  colours  of  the  rainbow,  at  last  brought  to 
the  ground  by  a  philosophical,  analytical,  and  anti- 
thetical disposition  of  pink,  yellow,  green,  white,  black, 
blue,  fawn,  Marie-Louise,  bronze,  and  brass-coloured 
silks  and  ribbons,  that  proved  irresistible.  As  some 
fish  are  only  to  be  caught  by  particular  baits  at  cer- 
tain seasons,  so  some  men  are  caught  by  particular 
colours.  We  ourselves  could  never  resist  a  flesh-col- 
oured gauze,  and  silken  hose  of  the  same.  Young 
ladies  had  much  better  study  the  nature  of  these  affin- 
ities, instead  of  going  to  hear  lectures  on  political 
economy,  chemistry,  and  anatomical  dissections.  The 
only  part  of  a  man  they  have  any  concern  with  is  the 

heart.     Women  are   like  bees  —  because .     We 

will  give  a  ball  and  supper  to  the  fortunate  person 
who  shall  solve  this  conundrum :  Why  are  women 
like  bees?* 

[*  The  quidnuncs  of  the  day  appear  to  have  taken  this  up  as  a  genuine 
conundrum.  The  New-York  Mirror  for  October  4,  1828,  quoting  "The 
Statesman",  gives  the  following  answers:  —  1.  Because  they  deal  most  in 
stceets  during  the  honey-moon.  —  2.  Because  they  swarm  most  briskly  in 
pleasant  weather.  — 3.  Because  they  are  generally  upon  the  mng.  —  i.  Be- 
cause they  are  fond  of  comis.] 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  225 

14.  Next  to  dress,  (which  is,  or  ought  to  be,  the 
first  object  of  a  lady's  care),  is  the  management  of 
the  person  ;  for  which  the  following  directions  will  be 
found  highly  useful.  The  first  essential  to  graceful- 
ness is  a  total  departure  from  nature.  What  is  the 
use  of  being  taught,  if  ladies  do  not  exhibit  the  effects 
of  teaching,  the  whole  object  of  which  is  to  counter- 
act the  natural  vulgarity  of  nature  ?  If  nature  gave 
them  a  grave  or  pensive  disposition,  they  must  try 
and  thwart  it  by  perpetual  laughing.  If  she  bestowed 
on  them  a  playful,  animated  mind,  the  effort  should 
be  to  appear  sad,  sorrowful,  sentimental,  and  sleepy. 
If  she  gave  them  a  light,  airy,  elastic  step,  all  they 
have  to  do  is  to  creep  softly  along,  with  downcast 
look,  and  silent,  solemn  inactivity.  If,  on  the  contra- 
ry, she  vouchsafed  them  an  outline  like  a  dumpling, 
it  is  proper  and  indispensable  to  dance,  bounce,  skip, 
and  curvet,  like  an  India-rubber  ball.  In  short,  na- 
ture must  be  frustrated  in  some  way  or  other,  and 
there  is  an  end  of  it.     Without  a  little  caprice,  a  lit- 

I  tie  affectation,  and  a  great  deal  of  fashionable  non- 
t  sense,  a  young  lady  is  intolerable.  Talk  of  nature,  and 
,  sincerity,  and  singleness  of  heart !  A  natural  woman  is 
;  no  more  fit  for  use  than  a  raw  calf  s-head.  She  must 
;be  worked  up  with  the  spices  of  fashion,  or  a  refined 

man  who  has  travelled  will  pronounce  her  entirely 

destitute  of  tournure. 

15.  The  first  requisite  for  a  young  lady,  in  walking, 
jriding,  sitting,  lolling,  or  dancing,  is,  that  she  should 
'do  it  according  to  the  fashion,  whether  it  is  set  by  an 
opera-dancer,  or  by  a  person  of  high  ton,  who  does  as 
'She  does  because  she  can't  do  any  better.  If  the  said 
ppera-dancer,  from  the  mere  force  of  habit,  strides 
•  15 


226  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

along,  and  lifts  up  her  feet  half  a  yard  high,  the  young 
ladies  must  do  the  same.  If  the  aforesaid  person  of 
rank  walks  with  a  wriggle,  a  jerk,  a  stoop,  or  a  lean 
on  one  side,  or  fiddles  along  with  the  elbows  and 
hips ;  if  she  does  all  this,  because  from  some  physical 
incapacity  she  cannot  do  otherwise,  still  the  young 
ladies,  by  the  laws  of  fashion,  must  do  the  same,  and 
creep,  or  wriggle,  or  jerk,  or  stoop,  or  walk  cramp- 
sided,  or  fiddle  along  with  elbows  and  hips,  as  the  law 
directs.  Whatever  is  fashionable  is  graceful,  beauti- 
ful, proper,  and  genteel,  let  the  grumbling  and  vuli^^ar 
mob,  who  affect  to  follow  nature,  say  what  they  will. 
In  short,  it  is  now  a  well-establislied  doctrine,  that  the 
whole  tenour  of  a  fashionable  education  ought  to  be 
to  defeat  the  vulgar  propensities  implanted  by  nature. 
To  direct,  control,  or,  what  is  still  more  ridiculous,  to 
facilitate,  the  expansion  of  natural  beauties,  qualitit  s, 
or  propensities,  is,  to  use  a  fashionable  phrase  just 
come  out  at  Almack's,  "  All  bosh."  It  is  only  The  ' 
poets  who  make  such  a  rout  about  following  nature, 
and  the  sincerity  of  their  declarations  may  be  tested 
by  the  contrast  bet^veen  their  precepts  and  their  ex- 
ample. Some  one  of  these  ranting,  rhyming  caviller.^,  i 
who  is  ashamed  of  his  name,  some  time  ago  bored  the  i 
English  world  with  the  following  philippic  against  | 
this  imitative  quality  which  is  the  distinguishing  ij 
characteristic  of  people  of  fashion,  who,  on  reading  it,  ^ 
will  no  doubt  smile  at  the  vulgar  indignation  of  this 
parvenu.  It  is  extracted,  with  an  alteration  or  two 
to  suit  present  purposes,  from  an  obscure  poem,  not 
long  since  published  in  London,  the  name  of  which,, 
if  we  remember  rightly,  was  "  May  Fair." 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.      227 

"  The  thinking  mind  this  miracle  must  strike, 
Scanning  the  moderns,  that  they're  all  alike : 
True  character  is  merged,  for  every  soul, 
Runs  the  same  gauntlet,  gains  the  self-same  goal. 
In  the  world's  jostle  is  the  stamp  worn  out, 
As  from  the  coins  Ave  carry  long  about. 
They're  all  the  same  without,  the  same  within, 
Alike  in  dullness,  and  alike  in  sin ; 
All  in  one  way  they  sit,  ride,  walk,  or  stand. 
Speak  with  one  voice,  nay,  learn  to  write  one  hand. 
Drest  to  the  mode,  our  very  nurseries  show, 
The  baby  lady,  and  the  infant  beau: 
In  rival  lustre  maid  and  mistress  meet, 
Ajid  elbow  one  another  in  the  street. 
As  much  like  nature  are  the  things  we  see, 
As  yon  clipped,  dusty  pole,  is  like  a  tree. 
Green,  waving,  glorious,  beautiful,  and  free." 

Did  ever  mortal  read  such  low  stuff!  It  is  almost  as 
vulgar  and  old-fashioned  as  Juvenal.  But  this  is  not 
the  worst.     Hear  the  villain ! 

"  Our  women,  too,  no  varied  medium  keep; 
Like  storms  they  riot,  or  like  ditches  sleep. 
Pale,  cold,  and  languid,  -RTapped  in  sullen  state, 
Or  flush'd,  warm,  eager,  full  of  learned  prate. 
Blue-bottle-flies,  they  buzz  about  and  sliine. 
Cramming  ten  senseless  words  in  one  long  line. 
These  haunt  the  galleries  of  the  cheap  antique, 
(Who  cares  for  naked  figures  —  they're  but  Greek!) 
And  knowing  man's  no  longer  to  be  found, 
Except  in  monkey  shape,  above  the  ground, 
'Tend  anatomic  lectures,  there  to  see. 
Not  what  he  is,  but  what  he  ought  to  be ; 
Display  their  forms  in  the  gj'-mnastic  class. 
And  get  ethereally  drunk  with  gas." 

I  We  have  given  these  extracts  to  show  our  fashion- 
able readers  (and  we  despise  all  others)  what  human 
nature  in  the  form  of  a  poet  is  capable  of:  as  well  as 
to  laugh  at  his  presumption  in  finding  fault  with  what 
I  constitutes  the  charm  of  fashion  —  its  uniformity.  By 
lits  magic  influence  on  dress  and  demeanour,  it  reduces 


228  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

grace  and  deformity,  beauty  and  ugliness,  youth  and 
age,  activity  and  decrepitude,  talent  and  stupidity,  to  a 
perfect  level.  All  look  alike,  act  alike,  talk  alike,  feel 
alike,  think  alike,  and  constitute  as  it  were  one  universal 
identity.  "  Can  any  mortal  mixture  of  earth's  mould" 
compare  with  a  fashionable  lady  of  the  winter  of  1828, 
except  her  fashionable  cook  or  chambermaid  ?  Were 
not  the  latter,  like  Achilles,  a  little  vulnerable  about 
the  heel  and  ankle,  this  beautiful  symmetry  of  the 
whole  sex  would  be  complete.  But  perfection  is  not 
to  be  looked  for  in  this  world  —  not  even  in  the  world 
of  fashion. 

Next  to  the  arts  of  dress  and  behaviour,  the  most 
important  thing  to  be  studied  is  the  system  of  gradu- 
ating the  thermometer  of  attention  to  the  claims  of 
the  beaux.  This  is  a  matter  of  no  small  difficulty, 
and  requires  great  tad^  as  the  reviewers  say.  The 
following  general  rules  will  be  found  useful ;  but  only 
long  experience,  or  frequent  parental  admonition,  can 
perfect  this  indispensable  accomplishment. 

First.  Always  proportion  your  attentions  to  the 
claims  of  the  gentlemen  who  aspire  to  them.  These 
claims  are  of  great  variety.  One  man  may  claim  con- 
sideration from  the  tying  of  his  neckcloth  —  another 
from  the  cut  of  his  coat  —  another  from  his  accom- 
plishments, such  as  fiddling,  dancing,  talking  English- 
French,  or  French-English,  or  writing  sleepy  verses. 
Others  come  forward  with  the  appendage  of  a  gig 
and  tandem,  or  a  curricle  —  others  with  that  of  a  full 
purse,  or  great  expectations  —  and  others  preposter-  • 
ously  expect  consideration  from  the  qualities  of  their 
heads  and  hearts.    These  last  deserve  no  mercy.    The 


THE   NEW   MIRROR    FOR   TRAVELLERS.  229 

following  list  is  carefully  graduated  according  to  the 
latest  discoveries  in  the  great  science  of  bon-ton. 

Number  one  of  the  classes  of  beaux,  entitled  to  the 
first  consideration,  consists  of  the  thrice-blessed  who 
are  accommodated  with  full  purses.  These  constitute 
the  first-born  of  Egypt;  they  are  the  favourite  off- 
spring of  fortune,  and  carry  with  them  a  substitute 
for  wit,  valour,  and  virtue,  in  their  pockets.  They 
are  entitled  to  the  first-fruits  of  every  prudent,  well- 
educated  young  lady.  Yet  it  is  not  actually  incum- 
bent on  a  young  lady  to  fall  in  love  with  them  at  first 
sight.  K  the  fortunate  gentleman  is  worth  fifty  thou- 
sand dollars,  he  is  only  entitled  to  a  gentle  preference, 
a  look  and  a  smile  occasionally.  If  he  is  the  merito- 
rious possessor  of  a  hundred  thousand,  the  preference 
must  be  demonstrated  by  double  the  number  of  looks 
and  smiles.  Two  hundred  thousand  merit  a  down- 
right penchant ;  three  hundred  thousand  justify  the 
lady  in  being  very  unhappy  ;  and  half  a  million  secures 
her  pardon  if  she  dies  for  love.  N.  B.  If  it  comes  to 
this  extremity,  the  mother  is  justified  in  charging  the 
half  a  million  with  practising  upon  the  young  lady's 
affections,  and  insisting  on  his  marrying  her. 

Secondly.  The  next  class  of  pretenders  are  the 
gentlemen  who  carry  off  belles,  as  the  champions  at 
the  Olympic  games  gained  their  triumphs,  by  virtue 

I  of  their  horses.  A  single  horse  goes  for  little  or 
nothing;  a  gig  and  mounted  servant  is  something, 
and  the  owner  somebody;  a  tandem  and  livery 
makes  a  distingue ;  and  the  fortunate  proprietor  of  a 

,  phaeton  and  four  may  fairly  enter  the  lists  with  any 

,  man,  except  the  half  a  million,  or  the  second  cousin 

'i  of  an  English  lord. 


230  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRATELLERS. 

Thirdly.  There  is  a  class  of  beaux,  who  justly  claim 
considerable  consideration  on  the  score  of  their  cos- 
tume. Dress  being  that  which  above  all  things  distin- 
guishes the  man  from'  the  brute,  it  follows  of  course 
that  the  best-dress-ed  man  is  the  first  man  in  the 
creation.  Accordingly,  the  more  accurate  modern 
philosophers  have  rejected  the  definition  of  man  given 
by  Plato;  to  wit,  "  A  two-legged  animal  without  fea- 
thers": and  substituted  one  much  more  applicable  to 
his  present  state.  They  define  him  as,  "  An  animal 
without  legs,  but  with  abundance  of  pantaloons  — 
stitched,  pressed,  corseted  —  composition,  regent' s- 
cloth  —  makers,  Scofield,  Phelps,  &  Howard."  *  Well- 
dressed  young  men  are  therefore  entitled  to  great 
consideration,  and,  if  not  of  the  first  rank,  assuredly 
deserve  to  come  in  immediately  after  the  cavaliers  and 
their  horses,  provided  always  they  can  show  a  receipt 
from  the  tailor. 

Fourthly.  Prize-poets,  players  on  the  piano,  anni- 
versary orators,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  belong  to 
the  class  of  minor  distingues,  and  are  entitled  to  the 
notice  of  a  fashionable  young  lady;  for  all  fashionable 
young  ladies  ought  to  wear  at  least  one  blue  stocking. 
They  will  answer,  however,  only  for  beaux  in  public 
and  en  passant.  Never  fall  in  love  with  them,  as  you 
value  a  coach,  a  Cashmere  shawl,  a  soiree,  or  a  three- 
story  house  with  folding  doors  and  marble  mantel- 
pieces. If,  indeed,  the  poet  could  build  four-story 
fire-proof  brick  stores,  or  brokers'  offices  in  Wall  Street, 
as  easily  as  he  builds  castles  in  the  air ;  or  the  chemist 
transmute  lead  into  gold  ;  or  the  piano-hero  erect  walls 
by  the  magic  of  fingers,  like  Amphion  ;  or  the  anniver- 

[*  Well-known  tailors  in  New  York,  in  1828.] 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  231 

sary  orator  coin  bank-notes  as  he  does  words;  then 
indeed  they  might  be  worthy  the  homage  of  your 
eyes  and  hearts ;  —  as  it  is,  they  will  do  well  enough 
to  swell  your  train. 

Fifthly.  But,  really,  it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  no- 
tice such  a  miserable,  obscure  set  of  beings,  who  seem 
born  for  nothing  else  but  to  be  useful.     We  mean  the 
men   who    claim    the  attention  of   young   ladies    on 
the  score  of  merit  and  an  amiable  disposition  ;  who 
are  not  worth  a  plum;  who  drive  no  horses;  who  de- 
rive their  being  from  no  tailors ;  and  who  can  neither 
I    write  prize-poetry,  turn  lead  into  gold,  fiddle  sonatas, 
.    nor  spout  at  anniversaries.     We  should  like  to  know 
;   what  such  people  were  made  for.     Fortunately,  how- 
:    ever,  there  are  now  but  few  such  scrubs ;  for  it  is  not 
.   the  fault  of  lexicons,  catechisms,  and  compendium s, 
,  if  every  man,  woman,  and  child,  cannot  know  or  do 
I  something  to  make  himself  or  herself  distingue.     If 
I  nothing  else,  poetry  can  be  written,  that  shall  be  excel- 
j  lent  rhyme,  however  it  may  lack  reason.     Of  the  few 
scrubs,  of  whom  the  best  that  can  be  said  is  that  they 
aspire  to  be  respectable —  (a  word  not  to  be  found  in 
the  dictionary  of  fashion)  —  still  fewer  are  to  be  met 
at  the  Springs,  where  neither  the  air  nor  the  waters 
agree  with  them.     They   will  much  more  likely  be 
found  attending  to  their  paltry  business,  storing  their 
minds  with  the  lumber  of  antiquated  knowledge,  or 
enjoying  the  soporifics   of  the  fireside  —  from  which 
may  all  good  stars  deliver  us!     If,  by  any  rare  chance, 
one  of  these  singular  monsters  should  appear  at  the 
Springs,  and  peradventure  make  a  demonstration  to- 
wards a  young  lady  aspiring  to  tournure,  we  would 
advise  her  to  laugh  him  to  death  at  once.     Such  men 


232  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

form  a  sort  of  icy  atmosphere  about  a  woman,  in 
which  dandies  die,  and  affectation  is  irresistibly  im- 
pelled into  the  vulgar  ranks  of  nature  and  propriety. 


CHAPTER  V. 

OF  THE   BEHAVIOUR  PROPER   FOR   MARRIED   LADIES  AT  THE   SPRINGS. 

1.  A  WELL-BRED  wife  should  never  take  her  husband 
to  the  Springs,  unless  she  is  afraid  to  leave  him 
behind.  If  he  is  a  stupid,  plodding  blockhead,  he  had 
better  stay  at  home  to  make  money  while  his  wife  is 
spending  it.  But  if,  on  the  contrary,  he  is  a  little  gay, 
gallant,  and  frisky,  she  had  better  bring  him  with  her, 
that  she  may  have  him  under  her  eye,  and  justify  her 
own  little  flirtations  by  his  example. 

2.  In  case  they  come  together  to  the  Springs,  they 
should  never  be  seen  together  while  there,  as  it  is  con- 
sidered indecent. 

3.  Married  women  should  always  single  out  old 
bachelors,  whose  whole  business  is  to  attend  upon 
pretty  women,  as  moths  fly  about  candles,  not  to 
light  a  flame,  but  to  be  consumed  in  one.  Or,  in 
default  of  these,  they  should  select  young  dandies, 
who  lack  a  little  fashionable  impudence,  if  such  can 
be  found ;  or,  in  the  last  resort,  the  husbands  of  other 
ladies,  who  devote  all  their  attention,  as  in  duty 
bound,  to  the  wives  of  other  men.  A  married  woman 
detected  walking  arm-in-arm  with  her  own  lawful 
husband,  might  better  commit  a  faux  pas  at  once  — 
her  reputation  is  irretrievably  gone.  5 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       233 

4.  Never  take  children  with  you  to  the  Springs. 
Leave  them  to  the  care  of  old  nurse,  at  home,  under 
the  superintendence  of  Providence.  They  are  perfect 
bores ;  and,  besides,  even  the  most  gallant  Lothario 
will  hardly  have  the  face  to  make  love  to  a  woman 
surrounded  by  her  children. 

5.  Married  ladies  should  never  sit  next  their  hus- 
bands at  meals,  as  it  might  give  rise  to  a  suspicion 
that  they  could  not  get  any  body  else  to  sit  by  them. 
Besides,  the  presence  of  a  husband  is  sometimes  a 
disagreeable  check  to  the  bachelor  beaux,  and  spoils 
many  a  gallant  speech. 

6.  Married  ladies  with  grown-up  daughters  had 
better  pass  for  their  step-mothers,  if  possible ;  but  if 
this  is  not  possible,  they  should  take  every  oppor- 
tunity to  observe  that  they  were  very  young  when 
they  married. 

7.  Married  ladies  should  forget  they  are  married,  as 
much  as  possible.  The  idea  of  a  husband  coming 
across  the  mind  is  apt  to  occasion  low  spirits,  and  put 
an  awkward  restraint  on  the  behaviour. 

8.  Neither  husband  nor  wife  ought  to  say  an  ill- 
natured  thing  to  each  other  in  public,  without  prefa- 
cing it  with,  my  dear  Mr.,  or,  my  dear  Mrs.  In  private 
it  is  no  matter. 

9.  They  should  be  particularly  careful  not  to  throw 
any  thing  at  each  other's  heads  at  meal  times ;  it  is 
almost  as  bad  as  to  be  seen  kissing  in  public.  This 
accident  however  cannot  occur,  if  due  regard  be  paid 
to  the  first  and  second  rules. 

10.  The  primary  object  of  a  married  lady  at 
the  Springs  is,  or  ought  to  be,  to  be  talked  about. 
Whether  it  be  for  any  thing  commendable  or  praise- 


234  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

worthy  is  a  matter  of  not  the  least  consequence. 
This  sine  qua  non  may  be  attained  in  various  ways  — 
by  eccentricity  in  behaviour  or  dress;  by  making  a 
fool  of  herself,  in  attempting  to  pass  for  a  young 
woman ;  or  by  drinking  such  enormous  quantities  of 
the  water,  that  people  perplex  themselves  to  death  in 
guessing  what  becomes  of  it  all.  The  best  mode, 
however,  of  compassing  the  greatest  of  all  possible 
pleasures,  that  of  notoriety,  is  to  encourage  the  atten- 
tions of  some  gay  coxcomb,  till  all  the  world  begins 
to  talk  about  nothing  else.  This  is  the  true  eclat, 
without  which  it  is  not  worth  while  to  take  the  trou- 
ble of  breathing  in  this  world. 

11.  Mothers  should  never  take  grown-up  daughters 
to  the  Springs ;  it  makes  them  look  so  old. 

12.  There  is,  however,  one  exception  to  the  fore- 
going rule  :  namely,  when  they  wish  to  settle  a  young 
lady  in  life.  In  that  case,  they  ought  to  be  careful  of 
seven  things,  to  wit:  — 

To  make  them  leave  their  hearts  at  home,  lest  they 
should  give  them  away  to  young  squires  who  can't 
pay  value  received. 

To  make  them  leave  their  feminine  timidity,  mis- 
called modesty,  at  home ;  otherwise,  they  may  not 
have  the  face  to  make  what  is  called  at  Almack's  "  a 
dead  set",  at  the  proper  object. 

To  be  sure  to  tell  every-body  in  the  most  solemn 
manner,  not  more  than  twenty  times  a  day,  how  fond 
Miss  Angelina,  or  Miss  Adeline,  is  of  retirement,  and 
how  backward  in  showing  off  her  accomplishments 
in  public. 

To  ascertain  the  weight  of  a  young  gentleman's 
purse,  or  at  least  of  that  of  his  papa,  before  the  young 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  235 

lady's  heart  is  in  danger.  This  is  sometimes  rather  a 
difficult  matter,  as  it  is  not  uncommon,  nowadays,  for 
gentlemen  to  make  a  vast  figure  with  other  people's 
money.  A  copy  of  the  will  of  the  old  gentleman  is 
the  best  security  for  a  matrimonial  speculation.  But 
even  this  is  not  infallible,  for  we  ourselves  once  had  a 
large  landed  estate  left  us,  by  an  old  bachelor  who 
had  feasted  in  our  house  for  twenty  years,  which 
turned  out  to  belong  to  another  person. 

Never  to  lose  an  opportunity,  while  condescending 
to  accept  the  arm  of  the  selected  Adonis  in  a  prom- 
enade around  the  drawing  or  dancing  room,  to  repeat 
all  the  flattering  things  the  young  lady  has  not  said 
in  his  praise.  Where  one  man,  ay,  or  one  woman,  is 
taken  by  the  heart,  a  thousand  are  taken  by  this  bait. 
We  speak  from  long  experience,  having  never  yet 
been  able  to  resist  any  woman  who  admired  us,  even 
though  she  might  not  have  been  handsome  enough  to 
make  a  song  about. 

If  the  mother  of  a  young  lady  at  the  Springs  has  a 
hard  character  to  deal  with  in  her  daughter,  that  is, 
one  who  cherishes  certain  pernicious  and  disobedient 
notions  about  loving,  respecting,  or,  most  of  all,  obey- 
ing, a  husband,  and  prefers  love  to  money,  we  know 
of  no  more  hopeful  plan  for  curing  this  romantic  folly 
than  to  point  out  to  her  notice  as  many  couples  as 
may  be,  who  have  made  love-matches.  Ten  to  one, 
the  contemplation  of  these  will  satisfy  the  young  lady 
that  money  wears  better  than  love. 

Lastly,  to  consider  merit,  talents,  amiability,  and 
an  attractive  person  and  manner,  as  dust  in  the  bal- 
ance, when  put  in  comparison  with  money.  Money 
not  only  makes  the  mare  go,  but  puts  the  horses  to 


236  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

the  coach ;  and,  (what  is  the  climax  of  human  bliss), 
secures  to  the  happy  lady  who  don't  mind  how  much 
she  pays  for  it  the  first  choice  from  a  consignment  of 
cast-off  bonnets  of  an  opera-dancer. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

OP    MARRIED    MEN,    AND    THE    BEHAVIOUR    PROPER    FOR    THEM    AT    THE 
SPRINGS. 

1.  A  MARRIED  gentleman  must  never  take  an  ugly 
wife  to  the  Springs,  lest  he  should  have  to  wait  upon 
her  himself;  nor  a  handsome  one,  lest  she  should  be 
too  much  waited  on  by  others.  But  if,  as  we  are  in- 
formed is  sometimes  the  case,  the  lady's  health  abso- 
lutely requires  it,  and  there  is  no  help,  the  laws  of 
fashion  peremptorily  prescribe  to  the  husband  a  total 
oblivion  of  his  wife  in  all  public  places,  where  she 
must  be  left  to  the  exercise  of  her  own  powers  of 
attraction  upon  other  men,  for  obtaining  the  atten- 
tions necessary  to  her  comfort  and  happiness.  If  she 
is  handsome,  she  will  be  sure  of  these ;  if  she  is  easy 
of  access,  and  free  from  all  vulgar  airs  of  prudery,  she 
will  stand  a  fair  chance  of  coming  in  for  a  due  share ; 
if  she  is  neither  one  nor  the  other,  she  must  fain  take 
up  with  some  forlorn  bachelor  in  his  grand  climac- 
teric. 

2.  Married  gentlemen  would  do  well  to  keep  their 
marriage  secret  as  long  as  possible,  were  it  not  for  the 
great  advantage  it  gives  them  in  flirting  with  the 
young  ladies. 


THE   NEW   MIRROR  FOR   TRAVELLERS.  237 

3.  iNIarried  gentlemen  should  be  particular  in  re- 
serving all  their  good-humour  and  spirits  for  public 
use.  As  to  their  private  deportment,  that  is  of  no 
consequence,  provided  they  have  discreet  wives,  who 
are  content  to  be  a  little  miserable,  provided  every- 
body thinks  them  the  happiest  women  in  the  world. 

4.  Married  men  should  never  forget,  that  it  is  better 
to  be  blamed  for  neglect  and  unkindness  to  their  wives 
than  to  be  quizzed  for  their  attentions  to  them.  It  is 
better  to  commit  sacrilege,  than  to  be  laughed  at  by 
people  of  fashion.  We  have  known  several  persons 
of  great  sensibility  who  actually  died  in  consequence. 

5.  It  has  been  asserted  by  certain  cynics  and  block- 
heads, that  old  married  men  who  live  in  the  country, 
and  who  have  young,  gay,  and  handsome  wives,  had 
better  take  them  to  Niagara,  Montreal,  Quebec,  or  — 
home,  than  to  the  Springs.  Ballston  and  Saratoga, 
say  they,  are  great  places  for  scandal,  and  it  is  not 
absolutely  out  of  nature  for  a  lady  to  gain  her  health 
and  lose  her  reputation,  at  one  or  other  of  these 
places.  We  hold  these  cautions  in  utter  and  prodi- 
gious contempt,  maintaining  in  the  very  teeth  of  such 
heterodoxy  in  fashion,  that  an  elderly  gentleman,  with 
a  young,  gay,  frisky,  handsome  wife,  cannot  do  half 
so  well  as  to  take  her  every  season  to  the  Springs. 
There  she  will  be  in  her  proper  sphere  —  admired,  fol- 
lowed, and  caressed ;  and  there,  if  there  be  any  virtue 
in  the  waters,  she  will  be  in  a  good-humour  with  her 
husband,  if  it  be  only  to  repay  him  for  the  admiration 
of  other  men.  There,  if  anywhere  in  the  world,  he 
will  enjoy  domestic  felicity,  and  taste  of  that  peace 
which  surpasseth  the  understanding  of  all  vulgar  hus- 
bands.    He  ought  to  go  as  early,  and  stay  as  long,  as 


238  THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

there  is  a  sufficiency  of  admirers  to  keep  his  wife  in 
fine  spirits,  for,  ten  to  one  —  (we  confess  it,  such 
is  the  instability  of  all  sublunary  happiness) — when 
they  return  to  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  domestic  bliss, 
in  their  solitary  home,  the  recollection  of  past  happi- 
ness will  poison  the  enjoyment  of  the  present,  and 
smiles  be  turned  to  desperate  frowns.  For  this,  how- 
ever, there  is  a  sovereign  remedy  —  a  journey  to  town, 
and  lodgings  at  a  fashionable  hotel. 

6.  For  those  wives  that  cannot  be  happy  at  home 
husbands  are  bound  to  find  amusement  abroad,  just 
as  they  are  bound  to  find  them  attendants,  when  they 
don't  choose  to  act  the  part  of  cavaliere  servente  them- 
selves. 

7.  As  it  is  a  received  and  inflexible  law  of  the  beau- 
monde  here,  to  imitate  all  foreign  fashions  as  a  matter 
of  course,  we  suggest  to  the  fashionables  who  consti- 
tute good  society,  to  mince  matters  no  longer,  and  not 
to  stand  shilly-shally,  like  a  horse  with  his  forefeet  in  the 
water  and  his  hind  feet  out.  We  would  have  them 
do  exactly  as  the  most  elegant  and  fashionable  models 
of  Europe  do  —  marry  for  money  or  rank ;  for,  as  to 
love,  that  can  be  got  any  where.  We  would  have 
them  consider  marriage,  not  as  tying  them  up,  but  as 
letting  them  loose.  We  would  have  them  purchase 
their  matrimonial  freedom,  by  mutually  conceding  to 
each  other  the  right  of  self-government  in  all  matters 
whatever,  except  the  enormity  of  being  out  of  fashion. 
It  is  utterly  inconceivable  by  those  who  have  not  had 
the  advantage  of  an  European  tour,  and  of  seeing 
people  of  the  highest  rank  —  in  their  carriages  or  at 
the  theatres  —  it  is  utterly  inconceivable  how  this 
mutual  freedom  conduces  to  the  happiness  of  domes- 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  239 

tic  life.  But,  as  example  is  said  to  be  better  than 
precept,  we  will  record  an  instance  that  came  under 
our  observation,  for  the  benefit  of  our  fashionable 
readers,  craving  only  leave  to  omit  the  real  names. 

Honorius  and  Honoria  married  for  love :  it  was  the 
mode  then  —  at  least  it  was  the  mode  for  people  to 
persuade  themselves  they  did  so.  The  husband  was 
a  first-rate  man  of  fashion ;  for  he  dined  well,  drove 
a  handsome  carriage,  gave  parties,  and  lived  in  a  three- 
story  house  with  folding  doors  and  marble  mantel- 
pieces. The  wife  was  in  like  manner  indubitably  a 
fashionable  lady ;  for  she  had  a  fashionable  milliner, 
a  fashionable  air,  a  fashionable  coach,  a  fashionable 
acquaintance,  could  not  exist  without  silver  forks,  and 
her  family  was  of  the  first  respectability  —  for  it  could 
show  more  bankrupts  than  any  in  town.  According 
to  the  most  approved  custom,  Honorius  gave  punch, 
and  Honoria  saw  company,  in  the  first  style,  with 
eight  grooms  and  groomesses  of  the  highest  ton.  One 
of  the  former  was  a  foreigner  of  great  distinction,  for 
he  could  play  the  piano  divinely,  and  was  third  cousin 
to  a  principal  tenant  of  an  English  prince  of  the 
blood  —  no,  we  mistake,  of  an  English  duke  —  the 
princes  of  the  blood  in  England  having  no  land  to 
plague  themselves  with. 

After  seeing  company,  they  moved  into  Broadway, 
or  Hudson  Square  —  it  matters  not  —  into  a  three- 
story  house  with  folding  doors  and  marble  mantel- 
pieces, and  for  a  time  were  as  happy  as  the  day  is 
long,  for  the  whole  town  visited  them,  and  admired 
the  folding  doors,  the  marble  mantel-pieces,  the 
carpets,  and  the  damask  curtains  of  eight  different 


240  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

colours.  But,  alas !  the  chase  of  happiness  is  nothing 
but  the  little  boy  running  after  the  rainbow  and  fall- 
ing into  a  ditch,  unless  people  set  out  at  first  in  the 
right  path.  The  twenty-ninth  evening  after  marriage, 
Honorius  was  detected  in  a  yawn  at  the  fireside  — 
for  Honoria  had  insisted,  before  marriage,  that  they 
should  give  up  the  world,  and  live  to  themselves  in 
the  pure  enjoyment  of  quiet  domestic  bliss.  A  yawn 
fer  se  is  nothing;  but  with  certain  combinations  and 
associations  it  becomes  extremely  formidable.  Hono- 
ria was  unfortunately  sufliciently  awake  to  see  it,  and 
it  went  nigh  to  break  her  heart.  Still,  as  she  was  too 
proud  to  show  her  real  feelings,  she  only  exclaimed,  a 
little  sharply:  "Lord,  my  dear — I  wish  you  would 
leave  off"  that  practice  of  yawning,  and  showing  off 
those  great  black  teeth  in  the  back  part  of  your  head." 
Honorius  had  wellnigh  jumped  out  of  his  skin  at 
this  speech,  so  wanting  in  tournure,  and  had  some 
trouble  to  answer  mildly,  "  Really,  I  am  so  stultified 
with  want  of  exercise  and  variety,  that  I  am  grown 
quite  stupid."  "  You  had  better  say  at  once  you  are 
tired  of  my  company,"  cried  Honoria,  bursting  into 
tears.  Honorius  assured  her  that  he  was  not  tired  of 
her  company  —  that  he  never  was  tired  of  her  com- 
pany —  that  he  never  would  be  tired  of  her  company 
—  and  —  here  he  was  stopped  by  another  yawn,  that 
was  absolutely  irresistible. 

That  night  neither  party  slept  a  wink,  for  the  last 
yawn  was  followed  by  a  keen  encounter  of  wits,  that 
ended  in  what  might  be  called  a  matrimonial  segrega- 
tion. However,  people  must  be  very  ill-tempered,  if 
they  can  remain  long  on  bad  terms  with  their  nearest 
connexions.      A  reconciliation  soon  took  place,  and 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  241 

Honorius,  to  prove  that  he  never  was  and  never  would 
be  tired  of  his  wife's  company,  staid  at  home  all  day, 
and  all  the  evening,  although  his  health  suffered  ma- 
terially in  the  direful  struggles  to  repress  those  violent 
impulses  towards  yawning  which  sometimes  beset  the 
animal  man  when  he  has  nothing  to  say  and  nothing 
to  think  about.  Too  much  fat  pats  out  the  candle, 
and  too  much  ashes  chokes  the  fire.  Tedium  is  the 
mother  of  ill-nature,  and  testiness  the  offspring  of 
ennui.  Honorius  did  not  go  out,  and  consequently 
brought  home  no  news,  no  topics  of  every-day  gossip, 
no  food  for  raillery,  laughter,  or  ridicule ;  and  there- 
upon it  came  to  pass,  that  our  young  and  faithful 
couple  sometimes  wanted  themes  for  discussion,  and 
took  to  disputing  and  contradicting,  merely  to  pass 
the  time. 

Little  by  little  —  by  those  imperceptible  snail's-paces, 
which  so  often  lead  from  passion  to  indifference,  from 
indifference  to  dislike,  from  dislike  to  antipathy,  the 
good  Honorius,  who  was  a  well-disposed  man,  and 
the  amiable  Honoria,  who  was  really  a  reasonable 
woman  as  times  go,  came  at  length  to  quarrel  once, 
t^vice,  yea,  thrice  a  day  ;  nay,  oftener,  for,  being  always 
at  home,  they  were  continually  coming  in  contact,  and 
when  married  people  have  no  other  antagonist,  they 
generally  fall  out  with  each  other.  It  is  indeed  quite 
indispensable  that  we  should  have  certain  out-door 
!  acquaintance  to  criticise,  for  the  security  of  peace 
wiihin  doors.  This  is  considered  by  some  sensible 
j)'  ople  as  the  principal  use  of  intimate  friends.  In 
>hort,  Honorius  found  fault  with  Honoria,  and  Hono- 
;ria  found  fault  with  Honorius,  even  when  they  were 
jboth  free  from  blame.  They  fell  out  about  the  baby 
I  16 


242  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

—  they  fell  out  about  the  servants,  the  inside  of  the 
house  and  the  outside  of  the  house,  the  stars,  the 
planets,  the  twelve  signs,  and  the  weather,  which 
never  suited  both  at  a  time.  In  short,  they  fell  out 
about  every  thing,  and  they  fell  ovit  about  nothing. 

At  length,  after  a  severe  brush,  Honorius,  in  a  fit  of 
desperation,  one  day  took  his  hat  and  actually  sallied 
forth  into  the  places  where  merchants  most  do  congre- 
gate. There  he  heard  the  news  of  the  day,  the  ups 
and  downs  of  life,  the  whys  and  the  wherefores,  the 
fires  and  the  murders,  the  marriages  and  the  divorces, 
and  all  the  items  of  the  every-day  drama  of  the  bu-^y 
world.  He  did  not  come  home  till  dinner-time,  and 
Honoria  received  him  with  as  much  kindness  as  if  he 
were  come  off  a  long  journey.  They  sat  down,  and 
she  asked  him  the  news.  He  told  her  all  he  had 
heard,  and  the  dinner  passed  off  without  a  sinirle 
quarrel,  although  we  are  obliged  to  confess  that 
Honoria  once  threw  the  gauntlet,  by  finding  fault 
with  his  spilling  the  gravy  on  a  clean  damask  table- 
cloth. 

In  the  evening,  however,  there  was  another  pro- 
longed duet  of  yawning  in  andante,  succeeded  by  a 
quick  measure  of  altercation.  Honorius  took  his  hat 
again,  and  went  to  the  theatre,  whence  he  did  not 
return  till  past  twelve ;  for,  what  with  horses,  dogs, 
and  devils,  men  made  by  nature's  journeymen,  specta- 
cles, singing,  dancing,  tumbling,  and  the  like,  people 
now  certainly  get  the  w^orth  of  their  money  at  the 
play,  in  quantity  if  not  in  quality.  Poor  Honoria  was 
so  alarmed  at  his  long  absence  that  she  thought  he 
had  drowned  himself,  and  was  so  glad  to  see  him  that 
she  forgot  to  ask  him  where  he  had  been,  till  the  next 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  243 

morning  at  breakfast.  He  told  all  about  the  horses, 
the  dancers,  the  devils.  The  Flying  Dutchman,  the 
flying  Indians,  the  grins  and  the  gauze,  and  the  ma- 
chinery and  the  pasteboard,  till  she  laughed  herself 
almost  to  death,  and  accused  him  of  having  been  at 
a  puppetshow.  The  breakfast  went  off  charmingly, 
although  Honorius  broke  a  teacup  belonging  to  a  set 
that  cost  five  hundred  dollars,  and  Honoria  put  twice 
as  much  milk  in  his  coffee  as  he  liked. 

By  degrees,  this  habit  of  going  out  increased  upon 
Honorius,  so  that,  at  length,  he  got  to  the  other  ex- 
treme, and  Honoria  was  often  left,  day  after  day,  eve- 
ning after  evening,  in  loneliness  and  solitude ;  for  her 
children  were  yet  too  young  for  companions.  She 
quarrelled  a  little  with  Honorius  about  it,  who  coolly 
answered,  "  My  dear,  why  don't  you  go  out  too  ?  no- 
body hinders  you."  "  Where  shall  I  go?  —  we  have 
completely  got  out  of  society,  by  visiting  nobody." 
"  O,  give  a  rout ;  I  warrant  you'll  have  company 
enough :  every-body  will  be  your  acquaintance."  It 
was  decided ;  a  rout  was  given,  and  every-body  came. 
This  of  course  entitled  them  to  invitations  from  every- 
body, and,  instead  of  spending  every  day  and  evening 
at  home,  they  now  spent  every  day  and  evening 
abroad.  This  again  produced  that  desperate  monot- 
ony, which,  whether  of  company  or  solitude,  excite- 
ment or  stupidity,  is  equally  tedious  and  unsatisfac- 
tory in  the  end.  They  began  to  dispute  their  way 
regularly  to  and  from  parties,  and  matters  became 
worse  than  ever.  Honorius  was  too  polite  to  cer- 
tain ladies  whom  Honoria  particularly  hated;  and 
Honoria  was  too  free  with  several  gentlemen  whom 
Honorius  supremely  despised. 


244  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

"  Alas ! ",  said  Honorius  one  day  to  himself,  "  is 
there  no  peace  to  be  found  in  this  world !  "  And  Ho- 
noria  repeated  the  same  exclamation  to  herself,  just 
at  the  same  moment.  A  sudden  ray  of  light  broke 
in  upon  Honorius,  as  if  in  response  to  this  pathetic 
appeal.  If  we  cannot  be  happy  together,  is  it  not 
possible  to  be  happy  asunder?  Honorius  went  out 
by  himself  the  very  next  night,  the  night  after,  and  the 
night  after  that.  Honoria  could  hold  out  no  longer, 
and  reproached  him  bitterly.  "  My  dear,"  answered 
Honorius,  mildly,  "why  can't  you  go  out  by  your- 
self, too  ?  "  The  carriage  was  ordered  on  the  instant 
by  Honoria,  who  went  to  one  party,  while  Honorius 
went  in  a  hack  to  another.  They  both  passed  such  a 
delightful  evening,  that  they  repeated  the  experiment 
again,  and  again.  Each  succeeded  better  and  better, 
and  the  arrangement  has  subsisted  ever  since.  Hono- 
rius  is  out  all  day,  and,  when  he  happens  to  be  at 
home  at  night,  Honoria  is  out  at  a  party,  or  to  the 
play.  In  the  winter  they  are  never  seen  together, 
except  by  accident  at  some  public  place,  when  you 
would  take  them  for  perfect  strangers.  In  the  sum- 
mer, she  goes  to  the  Springs,  he  to  Long  Branch ;  the 
children  are  left  at  home  with  the  nurses,  to  preserve 
peace  and  quiet  in  the  family  abroad.  Honoria  never 
gets  up  to  breakfast  with  Honorius,  and  Honorius 
never  is  at  home  to  dine  w4th  Honoria.  She  is  at  a 
ball  till  tvvo  in  the  morning ;  he,  at  the  faro-table  all  j 
night.  They  never  meet  —  they  never  quarrel.  Ho- 
noria is  the  delight  of  fashionable  gentlemen ;  Hono- 
rius, the  darling  of  fashionable  ladies,  who  all  envy 
Honoria  the  possession  of  such  an  agreeable,  witty, 
polite  husband.     In  short,  they  have  discovered  the 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  245 

grand  secret  of  preserving  domestic  peace  and  tran- 
quillity at  home  —  never  meeting  there. 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

OF  THE  EXQUISITES,   AND    THE   WHOLE   DUTY    OF    MAN   AT    THE    SPRINGS. 

Happy  the  man  who  is  born  with  whiskers,  for  he 
will  not  be  under  the  necessity  of  buying  a  goodly 
pair.  Without  them,  it  is  impossible  to  live.  As  the 
May-Fair  poet,  whom  we  have  quoted  heretofore 
with  reprobation,  most  insolently  sings  :  — 

"  AH  no-\v  -wear  beards,  or  buy  the  beards  they  wear; 
The  human  face  divine  is  lost  in  hair. 
While  thus  the  mind  so  well  the  body  suits, 
How  wise  to  steal  the  liverj^  of  brutes ! 
You  think  a  warrior  shoves  you  from  the  wall; 
'Tis  a  meek  creature,  whom  we  prentice  call, 
BeAvhisker'd  like  crusader,  or  a  Turk, 
In  quick  step  marching  homeward  with  his  work, 
A  pair  of  breeches,  or  a  flannel  gown. 
Looking  the  while  as  if  he'd  look  you  down  — 
Pray  don't  be  frighten'd,  he'd  not  hurt  a  fly; 
His  business  in  the  world  is  but  to  lie." 

Rule  1.  Next  to  whiskers,  dress  is  all  important  to 
the  success  of  a  young  gentleman,  at  all  places,  espe- 
cially at  the  Springs.  Not  manners,  but  taik)rs, 
make  the  man  in  the  present  improved  state  of  the 
world,  and  nothing  is  more  certain  than  that  success 
in  life  mainly  depends  on  the  cut  of  the  coat,  the  ex- 
uberance of  the  whiskers,  and,  above  all,  the  tie  of  the 
cravat.  We  know  several  young  fellows,  who  have 
'  iirried  off  heiresses  solely  by  virtue  of  preeminence 
'  in  this  last  item. 


246  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

2.  Be  sure  you  pay  no  attention  to  that  musty  old 
saw,  about  cutting  your  coat  according  to  your  cloth, 
except  it  be  to  reverse  the  ignoble  maxim,  by  cutting 
it  directly  the  contrary.  N.  B.  For  the  cut  of  your 
coat,  and  for  the  most  approved  attitudes,  see  the  fig- 
ures in  the  windows  of  the  men-milliners  in  Broad- 
way. 

3.  Never  get  any  article  of  dress  from  a  cheap 
tailor,  for  he  will  be  sure  to  make  you  pay  for  it ; 
whereas  a  real  fashionable,  expensive  tailor,  always 
charges  his  good  customers  extortionately,  to  pay  for 
his  bad  ones ;  for  it  would  ruin  him  irretrievably,  and 
frJehten  half  his  customers  to  the  uttermost  ends  of 
the  town,  were  he  to  be  guilty  of  the  ill-manners  of 
suing  one  of  them.  He  must  never  do  this  till  he  is 
about  leaving  off  business. 

4.  Never  stop  to  inquire  whether  you  want  a  new 
coat,  or  whether  you  can  pay  for  it.  If  the  tailor 
trusts  you,  good  —  it  is  at  his  own  risk,  and  if  you 
don't  pay  him,  somebody  else  must,  after  the  manner 
hinted  at  in  the  preceding  rule. 

5.  If  you  happen  to  see  a  wretch  coming  down  the 
street,  to  whom  you  have  been  indebted  three  or  four 
years,  you  have  only  to  stop  short,  consider  a  moment, 
then  turn  suddenly  around  and  trot  off  in  a  contrary 
direction.  People  will  take  it  for  granted  you  have 
forgot  something. 

6.  Never  pay  any  debts  if  you  can  help  it,  but 
debts  of  honour :  such  as  tavern-bills,  and,  generally, 
all  bills  for  superfluities.  By  the  law  of  nature,  man 
has  a  claim  on  society  for  the  necessaries  of  life,  and 
therefore  is  not  bound  to  pay  for  them. 

7.  Never  be  deterred  from  going  to  the  Springs  by 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  247 

any  sordid  motives  of  economy.  All  that  is  necessary 
is  to  pay  your  way  till  you  get  there.  Once  there, 
you  have  only  to  play  at  cards,  pocketing  your  win- 
nings and  paying  none  of  your  losings,  and  it  will 
go  hard  if  you  don't  create  a  fund  for  necessaries. 
Failing  in  this,  you  have  only  to  tell  mine  host,  that 
you  have  been  disappointed  in  remittances,  and  are 
going  to  Albany  or  New  York  to  see  about  them. 
Never  mind  his  blank  looks,  he  won't  dare  to  arrest 
you,  for  fear  of  losing  one  half  of  his  lodgers,  who 
would  not  fail  to  resent  such  an  unfashionable  pro- 
cedure, not  knowing  how  soon  their  turn  might  come, 
if  such  unheard-of  enormities  were  tolerated  in  fash- 
ionable society. 

8.  Never  pay  any  attention  to  the  ladies,  and  they 
will  be  sure  to  pay  attention  to  you :  that  is,  if  you 
have  plenty  of  whiskers  ;  plenty  of  cravats,  and  know 
how  to  tie  them ;  plenty  of  coats ;  a  curricle,  or  gig 
and  tandem ;  and  look  grim.  N.  B.  Heiresses  are  ex- 
cepted ;  they  expect  to  be  sought  after. 

9.  It  is  needless  to  caution  you  to  avoid  the  despe- 
rate imprudence  of  falling  in  love  with  a  lady  who  is 
poor  in  every  thing  except  merit.  Nobody  commits 
such  a  folly  nowadays,  especially  since  the  vast  im- 
provement in  taste,  and  the  prodigious  advances  made 
by  the  spirit  of  the  age.  Formerly,  in  the  days  of 
outer  darkness,  "  when  Adam  delv'd  and  Eve  span," 
poor  people  might  marry  without  coming  upon  the 
•parish.  But  it  would  be  the  extreme  of  folly  to  do  it 
now,  when  it  is  impossible  to  fit  out  a  wife  of  the 
least  pretensions,  for  a  walk  in  Broadway,  under  a  sum 
that  in  those  miserable  days  of  delving  and  spinnijig 
would  have  purchased  independence  for  life.     Since 


248  THE   NEW  MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

the  age  of  paper-money,  brokers,  speculating,  and 
breaking,  and  ever  since  the  great  encouragement  of 
"  domestic  industry,"  women  of  decency  never  spin 
any  thing  but  "  street-yarn,"  a  fashionable  article, 
which  has  all  the  fashionable  requisites  to  recommend 
it,  being  entirely  useless.  What  would  be  the  fate  of 
an  unfortunate  youth,  who  is  without  a  penny,  and 
without  the  means  or  arts  to  gain  one,  who  should 
marry  a  young  lady  who  possesses  but  one  single 
art,  that  of  spending  thousands?  How  would  he  get 
a  three-story  house  with  folding  doors  and  marble 
mantel-pieces?  how  would  he  obtain  the  means  of 
purchasing  hats,  at  fifty  dollars  —  pelisses,  at  a  hun- 
dred—  veils,  at  twice  as  much  —  and  shawls,  at  ten 
times?  How  would  he  be  able  to  keep  a  carriage, 
give  parties,  and  drink  Bingham,  or  Nabob,  or  Billy 
Ludlow  ?  Without  these  things,  what  man  or  woman 
not  quite  insane  will  marry  ?  And,  then,  the  children ! 
How  are  they  to  be  furnished  with  artificial  curls, 
and  necklaces,  and  bracelets,  and  ear-rings,  and  pink 
hats  of  immeasurable  size,  and  silken  hose,  and  ruflles, 
and  laces,  and  made  to  look  like  Lilliputian  ladies  ? 
How  are  they  to  be  taught  the  art  of  arts,  the  art 
worth  all  the  arts,  the  indispensable  art  of  spending 
money,  unless  there  is  money  to  spend  ?  We  know 
of  but  one  way,  and  that  is  by  running  in  debt  and 
getting  whitewashed.  This  can't  be  done  above  eight 
or  ten  times,  without  people  beginning  to  grow  shy 
of  trusting  you  for  any  sum  that  will  make  it  worth 
while  to  go  into  the  limits.  It  is,  however,  hoped, 
that  the  wishes  of  the  philanthropists  will  soon  be 
realized,  by  the  passage  of  a  law  to  do  away  with  this 
inhuman  necessity ;  and  that  the  time  is  not  far  dis- 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       249 

tant,  when  the  march  of  mind  and  the  spirit  of  the 
age  will  lead  to  so  pleasing  a  condition  of  things,  that 
people  may  indulge  in  all  the  luxm'ies  of  life  without 
money,  and  borrow,  without  the  disagreeable  alterna- 
tive of  paying  or  going  into  retirement.  Then  every- 
body will  be  rich  —  then  every-body  can  reside  in  a 
three-story  house  with  folding  doors  and  marble  man- 
tel-pieces, give  parties,  live  luxuriously,  get  the  dys- 
pepsia as  well  as  messieurs  the  brokers,  run  in  debt 
without  the  necessity  of  running  away,  get  married, 
be  happy,  and  dress  his  little  girls  as  fine  as  a  fiddle 
for  a  walk  in  Broadway  I  Until  then,  however,  we 
repeat  our  caution  not  to  marry  any  body  that  labours 
under  even  the  suspicion  of  being  poor,  the  worst  of 
all  possible  disasters  for  a  young  lady,  being  enough 
to  ruin  her  reputation  past  all  recovery.  Until  then, 
the  young  gentlemen  must  be  content  with  looking  all 
the  horrors  of  bachelorism  in  the  face ;  and  the  young 
ladies  riot  in  the  anticipations  of  single  blessedness, 
which,  melancholy  as  it  n:iay  be,  is  better  than  living 
in  a  house  without  folding  doors  and  marble  mantel- 
pieces, and  giving  no  balls.  While  the  old  gentleman 
lives,  he  must  work,  and  shave,  and  speculate,  and 
turn  his  pennies  ten  times  a  day,  to  keep  the  young 
ladies  in  the  costume  becoming  the  march  of  mind 
and  the  spirit  of  the  age ;  and  when  he  fails,  or  dies, 
they  must  trust  to  providence  and  the  orphan  societies. 
There  is  but  one  remedy  for  all  this,  and  it  is  ten  times 
worse  than  the  disease  —  economy.  As  it  is,  bachelors 
will  multiply  prodigiously,  marrying  for  love  will  go 
out  of  fashion,  and  there  will  not  be  a  sufficiency  of 
apes  in  all  Africa,  to  supply  the  place  of  the  dandies 
of  this  life,  in  the  life  to  come. 


250  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

10.  After  singling  out  the  lady  who  possesses  the 
needful,  to  wit,  not  less  than  a  hundred  thousand, 
it  behooves  the  young  gentleman  to  be  particularly 
attentive  to  the  —  mother  —  if  the  young  lady  unfor- 
tunately has  one  at  the  Springs.  Daughters  are  all 
so  dutiful,  that  they  never  reject  the  recommendation 
of  their  parents  in  cases  of  this  kind,  especially  if 
they  threaten  to  disinherit  them.  He  must  be  always 
on  the  alert ;  dip  water  for  her,  offer  his  arm,  sit  next 
her  at  table,  run  down  all  the  rest  of  the  married 
ladies,  praise  the  daughter  for  looking  so  like  the 
mother,  perfume  his  whiskers,  and  take  every  oppor- 
tunity of  looking  at  the  young  lady  tenderly,  at  the 
same  time  playing  with  his  watch-chain,  if  he  has 
one,  or,  in  default,  fiddling  with  his  cravat  —  there  is 
nothing  like  suiting  the  action  to  the  look.  He  must 
be  pensive,  abstracted,  and  distracted;  affect  solitude, 
and  drink  enormously  —  we  mean  of  the  waters.  He 
must  wander  in  the  woods,  lose  his  appetite  in  public 
and  make  it  up  in  private,  bite  his  thumbs,  chew  his 
lips,  knit  his  eyebrows,  and  grow  as  pale  as  he  pos- 
sibly can.  Should  all  this  fail,  if  he  can  afford  it  he 
must  give  a  ball,  or  a  collation,  or  a  party  on  the 
lake,  and  upset  the  boat  on  purpose  to  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  saving  the  lady's  life.  If  even  all  these  fail, 
he  must  resort  to  the  desperate  expedient  of  the  hero 
who  gave  name  to  the  famous  rock,  of  eternal  mem- 
ory, near  Ballston,  known,  and  ever  to  be  known,  by 
the  appellation  of  the  Lover's  Rock.  T-he  story  is  as 
follows,  on  the  best  possible  authority. 

A  young  gentleman  of  good  family,  who  could 
look  back  at  least  two  generations  without  tracing  his 
pedigree  to  a  cobbler,  or  a  shaver  —  we  don't  mean 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  251 

a  barber  —  but  whose  fortune  was  in  an  inverse  ratio 
to  his  birth,  having  the  good-luck  to  raise  the  wind  by 
a  timely  hit,  visited  the  Springs  in  a  gig  and  tandem. 
He  had  received  the  best  education  the  country  could 
afford;  that  is,  he  had  learned  enough  Greek,  and 
Latin,  and  natural  philosophy,  and  mathematics,  to 
forget  it  all  in  a  year  after  leaving  college.  He  had 
learned  a  profession  which  he  did  not  practise,  and  he 
practised  many  things  which  he  did  not  learn  from 
his  profession.  He  had  a  vast  many  wants  without 
the  means  of  supplying  them,  and  professed  as  lofty 
a  contempt  for  all  useful  occupations,  as  if  he  had 
been  rich  enough  to  pass  for  a  fool.  He  was  always 
well-dressed,  well-mounted,  and  well-received,  on  the 
score  of  these  recommendations  added  to  that  of  his 
ancient  descent ;  for,  as  we  said  before,  he  could  trace 
back  to  a  great-grandfather,  whom  nobody  knew  any 
thing  about,  so  nobody  could  deny  his  having  been  a 
gentleman.  Nothing  is  so  clear  a  demonstration  of 
ancient  descent  as  the  utter  obscurity  of  the  origin 
of  a  family. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  our  hero  was  excessively  fond  of 
style,  good  living,  and  gentlemanly  indulgences  of  all 
sorts ;  but  his  taste  was  cramped  by  the  want  of  the 
one  thing  needful.  'Tis  true,  he  got  credit  sometimes ; 
but  his  genius  was  consequently  rebuked  by  frequent 
dunnings  of  certain  importunate  people,  who  had  the 
impudence  to  want  their  money  sometimes.  If  it 
were  not  for  this,  living  upon  credit  would  be  the 
happiest  of  all  possible  modes  of  life,  except  that  of 
a  beggar,  which  we  consider  surpassingly  superlative. 
Beggars  are  the  true  patricians  of  the  earth ;  they 
form  the  only  privileged  class,  the  real  aristocracy  of 


252  THE   NEW   MIRROK   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

the  land  —  they  pay  no  taxes,  obey  no  laws  —  they 
toil  not,  neither  do  they  spin  —  serve  not  as  jurymen, 
firemen,  or  militia-men  —  work  not  on  the  highways 
—  have  no  country  to  serve,  nor  family  to  maintain  — 
are  not  obliged  to  wash  their  hands  and  faces,  or  comb 
their  hair  every  morning  —  fear  nothing  but  the  poor- 
house —  love  nothing  so  well  as  lying,  except  drink- 
ing —  and  eat  what  they  please  in  Lent.  In  short,  as 
the  old  song  says :  — 

"  Each  city,  each  town,  and  every  village, 
Aftbrds  us  either  an  alms  or  pillage; 
And  if  the  weather  be  cold  :md  raw, 
Then  in  the  barn  we  tumble  in  straw; 
If  warm  and  fair,  by  yea-cock  and  nay-cock, 
The  fields  will  afford  us  a  hedge  or  a  hay -cock  — 
A  hay-cock  —  a  hay -cock  —and  hay-cock — "  &c. 

Truly,  it  is  a  noble  vocation;  and  nothing  can  afford 
a  clearer  proof  of  the  march  of  mind  and  the  im- 
proved spirit  of  the  age  than  the  multij^lication  and 
daily  increase  of  this  wise  order  of  beggars,  who  have 
the  good  sense  to  know  the  difference  between  living 
by  the  sweat  of  their  own  brows  and  that  of  other 
people.  Next  to  the  wisdom  of  begging,  is  that  of 
borrowing  —  or,  as  the  cant  phrase  is,  living  upon 
tick. 

The  outward  man  of  our  hero  was  well  to  look  at, 
especially  as  it  was  always  clothed  in  the  habiliments 
of  fashion.  He  was  tall,  straight,  stiff,  and  stately ; 
his  head  resembled  the  classical  model  of  a  mop ;  and 
his  whiskers  would  have  delighted  the  good  Lady 
Baussiere.  The  ladies  approved  of  him;  and,  if  he 
had  only  been  able  to  achieve  a  three-story  house  in 
Hudson  Square  or  Broadway,  with  mahogany  folding 
doors  and  marble  mantel-pieces,  together  with  certain 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  253 

accompaniments  of  mirrors,  sofas,  pier-tables,  carpets, 
&c.,  it  was  the  general  opinion  that  he  might  have 
carried  a  first-rate  belle.  But,  alas!  without  these, 
what  is  man  ?  Our  hero  felt  this  at  every  step,  and 
his  spirit  rose  manfully  against  the  injustice  of  the 
world.  At  one  time,  he  had  actually  resolved  to  devote 
himself  to  his  profession,  and,  by  persevering  atten- 
tion, amass  a  fortune  that  would  supply  the  place  of 
all  the  cardinal  virtues.  But  the  seductions  of  Broad- 
way, and  the  soirees,  and  the  sweet  pretty  belles  with 
their  big  bonnets  and  bishops  —  there  was  no  resist- 
ing them ;  and  our  hero  abandoned  his  profession  in 
despair.  Finding  he  could  not  withstand  the  allure- 
ments of  pleasure,  he  resolved  within  himself  to  kill 
two  birds  with  one  stone  as  it  were  —  that  is,  to  join 
profit  and  pleasure  —  and,  while  he  was  sporting  the 
butterfly  in  Broadway,  to  have  an  eye  to  securing 
the  main  chance  —  a  rich  wife. 

In  pursuance  of  this  gallant  resolution,  he  made 
demonstrations  towards  every  real  or  reputed  heiress 
that  fell  in  his  way.  Every  Jack  has  his  Gill  —  if 
one  won't,  another  will  —  what's  one  man's  meat,  is 
another  man's  poison  —  there  is  no  accounting  for 
tastes  —  and  he  who  never  gets  tired  will  come  to 
the  end  of  his  journey  at  last  —  quoth  our  hero,  and 
continued  to  persevere  in  the  midst  of  continual  dis- 
appointments. He  might  have  succeeded  in  some  in- 
stances, but  for  the  sleepless  vigilance  of  the  mammas, 
who  justly  thought,  that,  having  brought  up  their 
daughters  to  nothing  but  spending  money,  the  least 
they  could  do  was  to  provide  them  with  rich  husbands. 
Either  the  pursuit  itself,  or  the  frequent  failures  of 
our  hero  in  running  down  his  game,  began  to  lower 


254  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

him  ill  the  estimation  of  the  world  —  that  is,  the  little 
world  in  which  he  flourished.  Success  only  can  sanc- 
tify any  undertaking;  and  a  thriving  highwayman, 
or  prosperous  rogue,  is  often  more  admired  than  an 
unlucky  dog  who  has  nothing  but  his  blundering  hon- 
esty to  recommend  him.  Besides,  there  is,  we  know 
not  for  what  reason,  a  prejudice  against  gentlemen 
who  pursue  fortune  in  the  shape  of  a  young  lady  of  a 
hundred  thousand  charms,  —  we  mean,  dollars.  Men 
obtain  a  maintenance  by  divers  means ;  some  by  handi- 
craft trades  —  some  by  shaving  beards,  and  some  by 
shaving  notes  —  some  by  long  voyages,  and  others 
by  perilous  journeys  on  land.  They  spend  the  best 
part  of  their  lives  in  these  pursuits,  and,  at  last,  when 
worn  with  care,  hardships,  and  anxieties,  sit  down  in 
their  old  age,  to  nourish  their  infirmities,  and  pam- 
per their  appetites  with  luxuries  that  carry  death  in 
their  train.  Now,  we  would  ask,  is  it  not  better  to 
seize  fortune  by  a  coup-de-main  and  achieve  an  heiress 
off'-hand,  than  to  chase  her  all  our  lives,  and  only  be 
in  at  our  own  death,  instead  of  the  death  of  our  game? 
The  prejudice  against  fortune-hunters,  as  they  are 
called,  is  therefore  unjust;  and  we  advise  all  young 
fellows  of  spirit  to  hunt  away  bravely,  rather  than 
drudge  through  the  desperate,  lingering  avenues  of  a 
profession. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  our  hero  began  to  be  held  rather 
cheap  by  the  young  ladies,  who  used  to  compare  notes 
and  find  out  that  he  had  made  the  same  demonstra- 
tions towards  some  score  or  two  of  them.  It  is  ob- 
served by  deep  philosophers,  that  the  last  thing  men 
or  women  will  pardon  in  others  is  the  fault  of  which 
they  are  most  guilty  themselves.      All  these  pretty 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  255 

belle-butterflies  had  flirted  with  divers  young  men, 
and  intended  to  do  it  again ;  but  they  were  exceed- 
ingly indignant  at  our  hero,  and  turned  their  backs  to 
him  on  all  public  occasions.  Some  ignoble  spirits 
would  have  sunk,  in  grovelling  despair,  into  a  profes- 
sion, and  have  abandoned  forever  the  pursuit  of  these 
fatal  beauties.  But  our  hero  was  not  the  man  to 
give  up.  He  mustered  all  his  credit,  and  made  a  dead 
and  successful  set  at  his  tailor,  who  furnished  him 
with  two  full  suits,  the  price  of  which  that  judicious 
tradesman  apportioned  equally  among  his  punctual 
customers,  who,  he  justly  thought,  ought  to  pay  some- 
thing for  being  in  good  credit.  Our  hero,  moreover, 
blew  a  desperate  blast,  and  raised  the  wind  for  a  gig 
and  tandem,  which  he  obtained  by  means  which  have 
puzzled  us  more  than  any  phenomenon  we  ever  wit- 
nessed. He  did  all  this,  and  he  triumphantly  departed 
for  'the  Springs,  where  the  fiy-fisher's  hook  catches 
many  an  inexperienced  belle  and  beau,  and  where  the 
pretty  rice-fed  damsels  of  the  south  do  congregate, 
whose  empire  extends  not  only  over  the  whole  region 
of  beauty,  but  likewise  over  divers  plantations  of 
cotton,  and  divers  scores  of  gentlemen,  both  of  colour 
and  no  colour. 

The  arrival  of  our  hero  at  the  Springs  occasioned 
quite  a  sensation.  The  young  ladies  inquired  who  he 
was,  and  their  mammas  what  he  was  worth.  The 
answer  to  this  latter  question  was  by  no  means  satis- 
factory ;  although  nothing  absolutely  certain  could  be 
gathered  for  some  time,  as  to  the  precise  state  of  his 
finances.  Meanwhile  he  singled  out  a  daughter  of 
the  sun,  of  whom  fame  reported  that  she  was  heiress 
to  a  rice-swamp  and  plantations  of  cotton,  and  feudal 


256  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

lady  over  hundreds  of  serfs,  who  bowed  to  her  sway 
with  absolute  devotion.  Our  hero  baited  his  hook, 
and  angled  for  the  fair  lady  of  the  rice-swamp,  with 
more  than  the  patience  of  a  professor  of  what  Isaac 
Walton  calls  the  "  gentle  craft."  The  young  lady  was 
quite  unknowing  in  the  ways  of  bon-ton.  She  had 
been  bred  in  the  country,  where  she  studied  romance 
in  books  of  religion,  and  religion  in  books  of  romance. 
She  had  never  run  the  gauntlet  through  a  phalanx  of 
beaux,  every  one  of  whom  gave  her  a  wound ;  nor 
had  she  lost  the  sweetest  inheritance  of  a  woman  — 
that  willing,  wilful  credulity,  which  almost  loves  to  be 
deluded,  and  which  had  rather  be  deceived  into  a  con- 
viction of  worth  than  be  obliged  to  believe  it  has  been 
deceived.  She  was,  in  truth,  deplorably  unsophisti- 
cated in  the  ways  of  men  and  of  the  world.  She  did 
not  even  dream  that  money  was  actually  necessary  to 
supply  our  wants,  much  less  did  it  enter  into  her  in- 
nocent fancy  that  it  was  utterly  impossible  to  be  mar- 
ried, at  present,  without  the  indispensable  adjuncts 
of  mahogany  folding  doors  and  marble  mantel-pieces, 
silver  forks,  satin  curtains,  Brussels  carpets,  and  all 
those  things  which  constitute  the  happiness  of  this 
life.  In  short,  she  had  no  tournure  at  all,  and  was 
moreover  a  little  blue,  having  somehow  imbibed  a  no- 
tion, that  no  man  was  worth  a  lady's  eye  unless  he 
was  distinguished  by  something  of  some  sort  or  other 

—  she  hardly  knew  what.     It  never  entered  her  head 

—  and  why  should  it  ?,  for  this  is  the  result  of  expe- 
rience alone  —  it  never  entered  her  head,  that  good 
sense,  a  good  heart,  and  a  good  disposition,  were  far 
more  important  ingredients  in  the  composition  of 
wedded  bliss,  than  a  pretty  turn  for  poetry,  or  a 
decided  vocation  to  the  fine  arts. 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  257 

But  her  lady-mother,  under  whose  guardian  wing 
our    heroine    now   first    expanded    her    pinions,    was 
another  sort  of  "  animal,"  as  the  polite  Johnnies  say 
of  a  woman.     She  was   perfectly  familiar  with  the 
elements  necessary  to   the  proper  constitution   of   a 
rational  wedding.     None    knew  better  than   herself, 
that  money  only  becomes  the  brighter  for  wearing, 
and  that  a  vast  many  other  things  especially  esteemed 
by  inexperienced  young  ladies,   not  only  lose   their 
lustre  and  value,  but  actually  wear  out  entirely  in  the 
course    of   time.     Experience    had   taught   her,    that 
Cupid  was  only  the  divinity  of  youth,  whereas  honest 
Plutus  never  lost  his  attractions,  but  only  fascinated 
his  votaries  the  more  strongly  as  they  grew  in  age  and 
wisdom^.     In    short,   she    had    a    great   contempt  for 
merit,  and  a  much  greater  veneration  for  money. 
Moved  by  these  opposing  influences,  it  is  little  to 
I    be  wondered  at  if  the  old  lady  and  the  young  one 
drew    different   ways.       Our   hero    made    daily    pro- 
gress with   the    daughter,    but    greater   leeway    with 
the   mother.      The    old    lady   watched    him    closely, 
J  and  always  had  something  particular  to  say  to  her 
I  daughter,  whenever  he  occupied  her  attention  for  a 
i|  moment.      She    could    not    stir    a    step    without   the 
;,i  young  lady,  and  grew  so  weak  and  infirm,  that  at 
;t  length  she  could  not  walk  across  the  room  without 
the  aid  of  her  arm.     Our  hero  entered  the  lists  in  the 
art  of  mining   and    countermining,   but  he   was  no 
match  for  the  dowager,  who,  though  she  had  but  two 
eyes,  and  those  none  of  the  brightest,  saw  all  that 
Argus  could  have  seen  with   his  fifty   pairs.       The 
opposition  of  currents  is  sure  to  raise  the  froth ;  and 
opposition  in  love  hath  the  same  effect  on  the  imagi- 

17 


258  THE   NEW   MIRROR    FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

nation,  which  is  Cupid's  prime-minister,  if  not  Cupid 
himself. 

In  this  way  things  went  on.  Our  hero  was  in  the 
situation  of  a  general  with  two  frontiers  to  defend, 
and  lost  ground  on  one  as  fa.-t  as  he  gained  it  on  the 
other.  With  the  young  lady  he  was  better  than  well ; 
with  the  old  one,  worse  than  bad.  About  this  time, 
another  pretender  entered  the  lists  against  our  hcn-o, 
equally  well-dressed,  equal  in  whiskers,  equal  in  intre- 
pidity, and  equally  in  want  of  the  sine  qua  non.  A 
rival  is  sure  to  bring  matters  to  a  crisis,  except  in  the 
case  of  a  young  lady  who  knows  and  properly  esti- 
mates the  exquisite  delights  of  flirtation.  The  good 
mother  saw,  pretty  clearly,  that  this  new  candidate 
would  infallibly,  by  the  force  of  repulsion,  drive  her 
daughter  to  the  opposite  side  —  that  is,  into  the  arms 
of  our  hero.  She  therefore  cut  the  matter  short  at 
once,  and  forbade  the  young  lady  to  speak,  walk,  sit, 
ride,  or  exchange  looks,  with  our  hero.  The  young 
lady  obeyed,  except  as  to  the  last  injunction;  and,  if 
the  truth  must  be  told,  made  up  in  looks  for  every 
thing  else.  The  old  lady  saw  it  would  not  do,  and, 
forthwith  sending  for  our  hero,  peremptorily  dismisse4 
him,  with  the  assurance  that  her  daughter  should 
never  marry  him  —  that  if  she  did,  she  would  never 
see  or  speak  to  her  more,  but  hold  her  alien  to  her 
heart  forever.  She  then  quitted  our  hero  with  tears 
in  her  eyes,  leaving  him  with  his  eyes  wide  open. 

He  took  his  hat  and  stick;  paid  his  bill  —  no,  I  am 
wrong,  he  did  not  pay  his  bill  —  and,  casting  a  look  ^ 
at  the  window  of  his  "  ladye  love  "  that  cracked  six 
panes  of  glass,  proceeded  in  a  fit  of  desperation  to 
the  rock  then  without  a  name,  but  now  immortalized 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  259 

as  the.  Lovers'  Rock.    This  crag  frowns  tremendously, 
as  all  crags  do,  and  hangs  in  lowering  majesty  over 
the  stream  of  Kayaderosseras  —  a  name  in  itself  suf- 
ficient to  indicate  the  presence  of  something  extraor- 
dinary, if  not  actually  terrible.      On  arriving  at  this 
gloomy,  savage,  wild,  and  dreary  spot,  our  hero  took 
out  a  pocket-glass  and  adjusted  his  whiskers  to  the 
nicety  of  a    hair.      He  then  deliberately  drew  forth 
his  penknife  with  a  pearl  handle  and  silver  springs, 
and  cleaned  his  nails.      After  this  he  pulled  up  his 
neck-cloth  five  or  six  times,  and  shook  his  head  man- 
fully ;  then  he  took  off  his  coat,  folded  it  up  carefully, 
laid  it  down,  took  it  up,  kissed  it,  and   shed  some 
bitter  tears  over  this  object  of  his  dearest  cares :  then, 
after  a  solemn  and  affecting  pause,  he  tied  a  white 
pocket-handkerchief   about    his    head,    cast    his    eyes 
upwards,  clasped  his  hands,  took  one  farewell  look  at 
,1  himself  in   the  pocket-glass,   and,  dashing  it  into   a 
I  thousand  pieces,  rushed  furiously  to  the  edge  of  the 
!  precipice.    There,  turning  a  somerset  by  mistake  back- 
I  wards,  he  fell  flat  on  his  bishops,  on  the  hard  rock, 
i  where  he  lay  motionless  for  some  time  —  doubtless  as 
I  much  surprised   as  was   poor   Gloucester,   when   he 
j  threw   himself  as  he   supposed  from   Dover  Cliff,  to 
I  find  that  he  was  not  dead.     The  truth  is,  our  hero 
1  could  hardly  believe   himself  alive  ;    until   at  length 
he  recognized,  to   his  utter  surprise  and  disappoint- 
ment, that  he  had  committed  an  egregious  blunder,  in 
throwing   himself  down   on   the   top,  instead   of  the 
bottom,  of  the  rock. 

He  determined,  in  his  own  mind,  to  do  the  thing 
—  better  next  time,  and  was  preparing  to  avoid  a  similar 

\~ 


260  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

the  pine  grove,  he  thought  he  saw  a  sylph-like  figure,  t 
gliding — (not  walking)  —  swiftly  in  the  direction  of  >. 
the  rock.    He  gazed  again,  and  it  assumed  the  port 
of  a  mortal  woman.     A  little  nearer,  and  it  emerged 
from   the   glossy,   silver  foliage,   in   the  form   of  the  i 
sovereign  lady  of  his  heart,  the  mistress  of  the  rice- 
swamp.     She  had  seen  him  depart  with  frenzy  in  his 
eye ;  she  had  heard  from  her  mother  of  his  summary 
dismissal ;  and  had  no  doubt  he  had  gone  to  that  rock, 
where  erewhile  they  had  looked  unutterable  things,  to 
kill  himself  as  dead  as  a  stone.    Taking  advantage  of 
the  interregnum  of  a  nap,  she  escaped  the  maternal 
guardianship,  and  followed  him  at  a  distance.      She 
had  seen  his  preparations  for  self-immolation  ;  she  had 
seen  the  pathetic  farewell  between  him  and  himr^clf, 
the  tying  of  the  handkerchief,  the  puUing-off  of  the 
coat,  the  wringing  of  the  hands,  the  rush  towards  the 
edge  of  the  rock;  and  she  had  seen  him  disappciir, 
just  as,  with  a  shriek  which  he  heard  not,  she  luid 
fallen  insensible  to  the  ground.     When  she  came  to 
herself,  and  recalled  what  she  had   seen,  she   deter- 
mined to  follow  her  lover  to  the  rock,  and  throw  herself 
down  after  him,  in  the  bitterness  of  her  despair.    But 
what  can  express  her  delight,  when,  on  arriving  at  the 
fatal  spot,  she  saw  her  true  lover  running  towards  her, 
apparently  as  well  as  ever  he  was  in  his  life  I     An  ex- 
planation took  place,  which  was  followed  by  words  of 
sweet  consolation  on  the  part  of  the  lady. 

"  I  swear,"  said  she,  "  by  the  genius  which  inhabits 
this  rock,  by  the  nymphs  which  sport  in  this  babbling 
brook,  by  the  dryads  and  hamadryads  that  live  in 
these  hollow  pines,  that  I  will  not  obey  my  cruel 
mother.     I  will  marry  thee,  and,  should  my  obdurate 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       261 

parent  disinherit  me  and  send  me  forth  to  beggary,  I 
will  share  it  with  thee.  Let  her  disinherit  me  if  she 
will ;  what  is  fortune  —  what  is  —  " 

"  Dis  — '  dis  —  disin  —  disinherit,  did  you  say  ?  " 
interrupted  our  hero,  staring  in  wild  astonishment. 

"  Yes,  disinherit,"  replied  the  young  lady,  enthusias- 
tically ;  "  I  will  brave  disinheritance,  poverty,  exile, 
want,  neglect,  contempt,  remorse,  despair,  death,  all 
for  you,  so  you  don't  kill  yourself  again." 

"  Dis  —  dis  —  disin  —  disinherit,"  repeated  our  hero, 
in  a  state  of  increasing  perturbation  :  "  pov — ,  ex — , 
wa — ,  neg — ,  con — ,  re — ,  des — ,  death  I  Why,  what 
is  all  this,  angel  of  my  immortal  soul  ?  " 

"  O  don't  take  on  so  —  don't  take  on  so,  my  own 
dear  heart:  I  swear  again,  and  again,  a  hundred,  ay, 
ten  hundred  thousand  million  times,  that  I  don't  care 
if  my  mother  cuts  me  off  with  a  shilling  —  " 

"  Cut  —  cut  —  off —  shilling  —  why,  I  thought  — 
that  is  —  I  understood  —  that  is,  I  was  assured  that 
• — that  —  you  had  a  fortune  in  your  own  right." 

"  No,  not  a  penny,  thank  heaven ;  I  can  now  show 
you  the  extent  of  my  love,  by  sacrificing  fortune  — 
every  thing  for  you.  I'll  follow  you  in  beggary  through 
the  world." 

"  I'll  be  damned  if  you  will,"  our  hero  was  just 
going  to  say;  but  checked  himself,  and  cried  out  in 
accents  of  despair  —  "And  you  have  no  fortune  of 
your  own  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  heaven !  " 

"  No  rice-swamps  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  heaven  I  " 

"  No  cotton  plantations  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  heaven  !  " 


262  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

"  No  uplands,  nor  lowlands,  nor  sea-island,  nor 
long-staple,  nor  short-staple  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  heaven  !  " 

"  Nor  crops  of  corn  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  heaven !  " 

"  Nor  neg —  I  mean  gentlemen  of  colour?" 

"  Not  one,  thank  heaven  !  " 

"  And  you  are  entirely  dependent  on  your  mother?" 

"  Yes ;  and  she  has  sworn  to  disinherit  me  if  I 
marry  you,  thank  heaven  I  You  have  now  an  opportu- 
nity of  showing  the  disinterestedness  of  your  affec- 
tion." 

"  Our  hero  started  up  in  a  tumult  of  distraction  — 
he  rushed  madly  and  impetuously  to  the  edge  of  the 
precipice,  and,  avoiding  a  mistake  similar  to  that  he 
had  just  committed,  threw  himself  headlong  down 
into  the  terrible  torrent  with  the  terrible  name,  and 
floated  none  knew  whither,  for  his  body  was  never 
found.  The  young  lady  was  turned  into  stone  — 
don't  be  alarmed,  gentle  reader  —  only  for  a  few  min- 
utes. These  past,  she  bethought  herself  of  following 
her  lover ;  then,  she  bethought  herself  of  considering 
the  matter ;  and,  finally,  she  fell  into  an  inexplicable 
perplexity,  as  to  what  could  have  got  into  our  hero,  to 
drown  himself  in  despair  at  the  very  moment  she  was 
promising  to  make  him  the  happiest  of  men.  She 
determined  to  live  till  she  had  solved  this  doubt, 
which,  by  the  way,  she  never  could  do  to  the  end  of 
her  life ;  and  she  died  without  being  able  to  tell  what 
it  was  that  made  her  lover  make  away  with  himself  at 
such  an  improper  time.  As  for  the  rest,  the  landlord 
and  the  man-mercer,  like  the  "  devil  and  the  king  "  in 
the  affair  of  Sir  Balaam,  divided  the  prize ;  one  taking 


THE   NEW   MIRROK   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  263 

the  gig,  the  other  the  tandem.  From  that  time  the 
place  has  gone  by  the  name  of  the  Lover's  Rock,  and 
not  a  true  lover,  or  true-hearted  lady,  ever  visits  the 
Springs  without  spending  many  an  hour  of  sentimen- 
tal luxury  on  the  spot  where  our  hero  could  not  sur- 
vive the  anguish  of  even  anticipating  that  he  should 
cause  the  lady  of  his  heart  to  be  disinherited  for  love 
of  him. 


CHAPTER  ym. 

OF  THE   BEHAVIOUR   PROPER   FOR   ELDERLY   SINGLE  GENTLEMEN  AT  THE 
SPRINGS. 

In  days  of  yore,  before  the  march  of  mind  and  the 
improvements  in  style  and  dress  which  distinguish 
the  present  happy  age,  old  bachelors  deserved  no 
mercy,  unless  they  came  under  the  class  of  disap- 
pointed lovers,  or  proved  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
world,  "  they  would  if  they  could."  But  now,  unless 
a  man  is  born  rich,  he  can't  afford  to  marry  till  he 
grows  rich,  and  in  becoming  so  he  is  very  apt  to  grow 
old.  Hence  the  number  of  bachelors  is  sure  to  in- 
crease with  the  progress  of  refinement,  which  mainly 
consists  in  the  invention  or  adoption  of  new  modes 
of  dress,  new-fashioned  furniture,  and  new  ways  of 
spending  money.  Bachelors  have,  for  these  reasons, 
become  of  late  sufficiently  numerous  to  constitute  a 
class  by  themselves,  and  to  merit  a  code  designed 
especially  for  their  use  and  government.  At  the  same 
time  we  premise  that,  all  things  considered,  we  are  of 


264  THE  NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

opinion  that,  since  it  is  indecent  for  a  man  of  any 
pretensions  to  get  married  until  he  can  afford  to  live 
in  a  three-story  house  with  mahogany  folding  doors 
and  marble  mantel-pieces,  he  ought  not  to  be  classed 
with  old  bachelors,  till  it  can  be  proved  he  has  been 
five  years  rich  enough  for  matrimony,  or  till  he  is 
fully  convicted  of  threescore,  when  he  must  give  in, 
and  take  his  place  in  the  corps. 

1.  Bachelors,  or,  more  politely,  single  gentlemen  of 
a  certain  age,  ought  never  to  marry  any  but  very 
young,  sprightly  belles,  of  the  first  fashion  and  preten- 
sions. The  true  foundation  of  mutual  affection  is  in 
the  attraction,  not  of  affinity,  but  of  contrast.  This 
contrast  is  perfect  between  a  gentleman  of  fifty  and 
a  young  lady  of  sixteen,  and  nothing  can  come  of  such 
a  union  but  mutual  love  and  perfect  obedience  on  the 
part  of  the  lady,  who,  ten  to  one,  will  look  up  to  him 
as  a  father. 

2.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age,  who  are  rich 
enough  to  afford  a  curricle,  together  with  a  three-story 
house  with  folding  doors  and  marble  mantel-pieces, 
need  not  be  under  any  apprehensions  of  being  rejected 
by  a  young  lady,  brought  up  as  she  ought  to  be,  with 
a  proper  insight  into  the  relative  value  of  men  and 
things.  But  they  should  not  be  more  than  ten  years 
making  up  their  minds,  remembering  the  fowler,  who 
was  so  long  taking  aim  that  the  bird  flew  away  before 
he  drew  the  trigger. 

3.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  should  never 
play  a  double  part,  or  sport  with  the  hearts  of  inexpe- 
rienced young  ladies. 

4.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  should  beware 
of  the  widowers,  who  are  always  in  a  hurry.     We 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       265 

have  known  a  bachelor  cut  out  by  a  brisk  widower, 
before  he  knew  where  he  was. 

5.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  should  never 
plead  guilty  to  the  least  ache  or  pain,  except  growing 
pains.  They  should  never  remember  any  thing  that 
happened  more  than  ten  years  back.  To  recollect 
past  times  is  a  melancholy  proof  of  old  age. 

6.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  should  never 
attempt  a  cotillon,  or  try  to  cut  a  caper,  except  they 
are  sure  of  going  through  with  it.  If  they  are  once 
laughed  at  in  public,  it  is  all  over  with  them.  They 
had  better  be  poor. 

7.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  should  beware 
how  they  "  buck  up  "  to  widows,  unless  they  have  pre- 
viously brought  themselves,  as  Lady  Macbeth  (who 
was  undoubtedly  a  widow  when  Macbeth  married 
her)  says,  "  to  the  sticking  place,"  that  is,  to  the  reso- 
lution of  committing  matrimony  at  a  moment's  warn- 
ing. Your  widows,  if  they  mean  to  marry  again  at 
all,  never  like  to  linger  on  the  funeral  pyre  of  a  bache- 
lor's indecision. 

8.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  should  never 
marry,  except  they  have  proof  positive  of  the  disinter- 
ested affection  of  the  young  lady.  In  order  to  ascer- 
tain this,  it  would  be  well  to  circulate  a  rumour  of 
great  losses,  or  actual  bankruptcy,  and  put  down  the 
equipage. 

9.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  ought  never  to 
have  more  than  two  ladies  in  prospect  at  one  time  — 
one  for  each  eye  —  else  they  may  chance  to  lose  both. 
The  prevailing  offence  of  bachelors  is  that  of  ill-bred 
pointers:  you  cannot  bring  them  to  a  dead  point, 
although  they  will  be  popping  their  noses  every- 
where. 


266  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

10.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age,  being  always 
young,  should  never  keep  company  with  old  people, 
for  fear  the  stale  proverb,  about  birds  of  a  feather, 
should  be  fired  at  their  heads.  They  should  now  and 
then  commit  a  gentlemanly  excess,  such  as  drinking 
six  bottles  at  a  sitting,  or  playing  cards  all  night, 
though  it  might  be  expedient  not  to  appear  in  public 
till  the  effects  are  gone  off.  An  old  field  is  not  easily 
renovated. 

11.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age,  who  are  well- 
to-do  in  the  world,  when  inspired  with  a  desire  to 
appropriate  young  ladies,  ought  to  make  the  first  ad- 
vances to  the  mothers.  The  latter  know  tiie  value  of 
money  better  than  the  former,  and  a  well-bred  daugh- 
ter will  think  it  indelicate  to  ])retend  to  know  any 
difference  between  one  man  and  another,  except  as 
respects  his  fortune.  For,  as  the  great  poet  says, 
^^  worth  makes  the  man,"  that  is,  the  money  he  is 
worth. 

12.  Single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  —  (which 
phrase  we  ought  before  this  to  have  explained,  as 
indicating  gentlemen  whose  ages  are  altogether  un- 
certain) —  ought  never  to  deceive  the  young  ladies  in 
any  thing  but  their  years  and  their  money.  A  desire 
to  appear  young  and  to  be  thought  rich  is  so  natural 
and  amiable,  that  none  but  a  cynic  would  ascribe  it 
to  a  bad  motive. 

13.  Very  old  single  gentlemen  of  a  certain  age  should 
be  careful  how  they  marry  in  the  month  of  January, 
for  reasons  which  shall  be  nameless ;  or  in  Febru- 
ary, for  reasons  which  will  readily  present  themselves ; 
or  in  March,  for  reasons  we  do  not  think  proper  to 
specify ;  or  in  April,  for  reasons  best  known  to  our- 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  26T 

selves;  or  in  May,  for  reasons  of  the  first  magnitude; 
or  in  June,  for  reasons  which  cannot  be  obviated; 
or  in  July,  for  reasons  which  no  one  will  venture  to 
to  controvert ;  or  in  August,  for  reasons  which  every 
body  will  understand ;  or  in  September,  for  reasons 
which  to  be  ignorant  of  would  impeach  the  reader's 
understanding;  or  in  October,  for  reasons  highly  ap- 
propriate ;  or  in  November,  for  reasons  deep  and 
profound ;  or  in  December,  for  reasons  as  plain  as  the 
nose  on  our  face.  There  are,  moreover,  seven  days 
of  the  week  on  which  very  old  single  gentlemen  of  a 
certain  age  ought  not  to  think  of  being  married. 
Monday,  because  that  is  washing-day.  Tuesday,  or 
Twosday  as  it  was  originally  written,  because  it  sug- 
gests that,  "  man  and  wife  will  be  two ",  before  the 
end  of  the  week.  Wednesday,  or  Wedding-day,  as  is 
the  true  orthography,  for  that  is  generally  the  day  of 
all  others  an  old  single  gentleman  of  a  certain  age 
recollects  with  the  least  satisfaction.  Thursday,  or 
Thorsday,  because  it  was  christened  after  the  Pagan 
deity,  Thor^  and  marriage  is  a  Christian  ceremony. 
Friday,  because  it  is  hanging-day,  and  he  might  be 
tempted  to  turn  himself  off.  Saturday,  because  that 
is  too  far  from  the  middle  of  the  week.  Above  all, 
Sunday,  for  that  is  dies  non,  and  no  moneyed  transac- 
tions, or  purchases  and  sales,  are  lawful  on  that  day. 
Any  other  day  in  the  week,  it  is  perfectly  safe  for  them 
to  marry. 


20 8  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

OF    MATRIMONY,    AND    OF    THE    BEST    MODE    OF    INSURING    HAPPINESS    IN 
THE   STATE,  BY   A   DISCREET   CHOICE   OF   A   HELPMATE. 

In  the  present  improved  system  of  society,  when 
the  young  ladies  wear  spatterdashes  and  the  young 
gentlemen  corsets,  money  is  absolutely  essential  to  the 
patient  endurance  of  the  married  state.  The  choice 
of  a  rich  husband  or  wife  supersedes,  therefore,  the 
necessity  of  all  rules,  as  wealth  secures  to  the  success- 
ful adventurer  all  the  happiness  this  world  can  give, 
so  long  as  it  lasts.  But  as  every  one  is  not  so  fortu- 
nate as  to  achieve  a  rich  heir  or  heiress,  the  following 
hints  may  enable  even  the  tyro  to  make  a  choice  that 
will  in  some  measure  supply  the  absence  of  cash. 

1.  Beauty  is  a  principal  ingredient  of  happiness  in 
the  married  state,  and  it  is  scarcely  ever  observed  that 
a  handsome  cou])le  is  otherwise  than  truly  happy.  If 
it  be  objected  that  beauty  is  but  a  fading  flower,  we 
answer,  that,  when  it  is  faded,  all  that  the  parties  have 
to  do  is  to  thinh  each  other  beautiful.  If  such  an 
effort  of  the  imagination  is  beyond  them,  they  must 
do  the  best  they  can,  and  admire  each  other  for  their 
good  qualities. 

2.  Next  in  value  to  beauty  is  the  capacity  of  cut- 
ting a  dash  at  all  public  places,  by  dressing  well, 
dancing  well,  and  making  one's  self  agreeable  to 
every-body.  Nobody,  except  the  person  that  has  ex- 
perienced it,  can  conceive  the  happiness  of  having 
one's  wife,  or  husband,  admired  by  all  the  world.  As 
to  how  people  conduct  themselves  in  private,  and  in 
the  domestic  tete-d-tete^  that  is  a  matter  of  very  little 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.       269 

consequence,  so  long  as  they  have  sufficient  discretion 
to  keep  their  own  secrets,  and  sufficient  good-breed- 
ing not  to  quarrel  before  the  public. 

3.  As  nothing  is  so  outrageously  vulgar  as  the  idea 
of  not  spending  money  because  one  has  not  got  it  to 
spend,  the  next  best  thing  to  having  a  rich  or  hand- 
some wife  is  having  a  wife  that  knows  how  to  feign 
a  fortune.  This  is  an  infallible  proof  of  high-breeding, 
and  great  cleverness  withaL  Any  fool  can  make  a 
figure  with  money,  but  to  make  an  equal  figure  with- 
out it  is  an  invaluable  qualification  in  a  wife. 

4.  Never  marry  any  body  you  have  ever  heard  or 
seen  laughed  at  by  people  of  fashion,  unless  he  or  she 
is  rich ;  nor  any  body  who  does  not  always  follow  the 
recent  fashions  in  every  thing.  A  bonnet  or  a  coat  out 
of  fashion  infallibly  degrades  people  from  their  station 
in  society,  whether  they  are  young  or  old,  and  a  per- 
son that  leads  the  ton  is  almost  an  equal  prize  with 
an  heiress  or  a  beauty. 

5.  Never  marry  a  lady  who  appears  unconscious  of 
her  beauty  or  accomplishments,  except  she  is  an  heir- 
ess ;  for  this  presupposes  a  degree  of  blindness  and 
stupidity  truly  deplorable.  How  can  you  expect  a 
woman  to  see  the  good  qualities  of  her  husband,  when 
she  is  blind  to  her  own  ? 

6.  Never  marry  a  woman  of  prudence,  good-sense, 
good-temper,  and  piety,  excepting  always  she  is  rich ; 
for,  if  you  happen  to  turn  out  an  indifferent  husband, 
all  the  world  will  blame  you :  whereas  if  she  be  as 
bad  as,  or  worse  than,  yourself,  you  will  have  the  best 
possible  excuse. 

7.  Never  marry  a  woman  who  is  particularly  retir- 
ing  in    her   disposition    and   habits.     This   bespeaks 


270       THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS. 

shyness,  and  shyness  indicates  slyness,  and  slyness, 
hypocrisy.  Your  bold-faced,  harum-scarum  women, 
who  show  all,  and  disguise  nothing,  are  the  best. 
There  is  no  deception  about  them,  and  it  is  a  proof 
that  they  have  nothing  to  hide,  when  they  hide  noth- 
ing. Ladies  that  eat  nothing  in  public  generally 
make  it  up  in  the  pantry,  and,  to  quote  a  saying  fash- 
ionable at  Almack's,  "  The  still  sow  ",  (5cc.  6cc. 

8.  Beware  of  that  terrible  monster,  a  woman  that 
affects  to  have  a  will  of  her  own  before  marriage,  and 
to  act  up  to  certain  old-fashioned  notions  of  propriety 
and  decorum  ;  one  who  refuses  to  make  herself  ridicu- 
lous, despite  of  the  fashion ;  who  will  not  waltz  in 
public  with  a  perfect  stranger,  despite  of  the  fashion ; 
who  will  not  flirt  with  any-body  that  comes  in  her 
way,  despite  of  the  fashion  ;  and  who  absolutely  re- 
fuses to  act  and  look  like  a  fool,  though  every  body 
ehe  sets  her  the  example.  Such  a  woman  will  trouble 
you  exceedingly,  and,  ten  to  one,  never  let  you  rest  till 
you  become  as  preposterous  as  herself. 

9.  Beware  also  of  a  woman  who  had  rather  stay 
at  home  and  read  Paradise  Lost,  than  walk  up  and 
down  the  Paradise  of  Broadway  in  a  high  wind  and 
a  cloud  of  dust,  holding  her  hat  with  one  hand, 
and  her  cloak  with  the  other.  Such  a  woman  decid- 
edly prefers  exercise  of  mind  to  exercise  of  limbs,  and 
will  never  make  a  good  waltzer. 

10.  Beware  of  blue-stockings,  for  they  are  abroad. 

11.  Beware  of  bishops  and  hoop-petticoats,  for  they 
are  abroad. 

12.  Beware  —  we  now  address  ourselves  particu- 
larly to  the  ladies  —  beware  of  all  men  that  aspire  to 
be  useful  in  their  generation,  except  they  be  rich ;  be- 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAYELLERS.  271 

ware  of  all  men  who  look  as  if  nature  had  any  hand 
in  their  composition,  except  they  be  rich ;  beware  of 
all  that  aspire  to  be  better  and  wiser  than  their  neigh- 
bours, except  they  be  rich ;  beware  of  young  lawyers, 
who  think  of  nothing  but  estates  and  entails ;  beware 
of  young  physicians,  whose  knowledge  of  anatomy  and 
craniology  enables  them  to  dive  into  all  your  secrets; 
beware  of  the  young  parsons  in  spectacles,  who  look 
through  and  through  your  hearts ;  beware  of  all  man- 
ner of  men  who  look  at  bills  before  paying  them ; 
beware  of  all  sorts  of  handicraft  men,  except  Monsieur 
Manuel,  the  barber,  and  Monsieur  Simon,  the  cook ; 
and,  above  all,  beware  of  your  stiff,  starched  fellows 
that  aspire  to  the  cardinal  virtues,  for  that  smacks  of 
Popery. 

We  had  thoughts  of  following  up  these  rules  for 
entering  the  happy  state  of  matrimony,  with  some 
general  directions  for  preserving  harmony  after  mar- 
riage. But,  upon  the  whole,  it  is  scarcely  worth 
while.  The  great  thing,  after  all,  is  to  be  fairly  and 
honestly  married,  and  what  happens  afterwards  is  of 
minor  consequence.  If  you  have  money,  you  cannot 
be  otherwise  than  happy;  if  you  have  beauty,  fashion 
and  good  dancing,  it  is  your  own  fault  if  you  are  not 
happy ;  and  if  you  have  none  of  these,  you  have  no 
right  to  expect  happiness.  If  you  are  only  contented 
and  comfortable,  that  is  all  you  can  hope  for  in  this 
world,  without  riches,  beauty,  or  fashion ;  and  that  is 
more  than  you  deserve  for  marrying  only  a  discreet, 
prudent,  sensible,  amiable,  tolerable-looking  dowdy  of 
a  man  or  woman.  We  shall  therefore  conclude  this 
portion  of  our  undertaking,  by  cordially  wishing  all 


272  THE   NEW   MIRllOE    FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

our  fashionable  readers,  well,  that  is,  richly,  married 
—  a  wish  which  includes  all  sublunary  blessings. 


CHAPTER  X. 

OF  THE  BEST  MODES  OF  KILLING  THE  GRAND  ENEMY  OF  THE  FASHION- 
ABLE HUMAN  RACE,  WHO  HAVE  NOTHING  TO  DO  IN  THIS  WORLD  — 
BUT   TO   BE   HAPPY. 

'  Op  all  the  various  modes  and  inventions  devised 
since  the  creation  of  the  world,  for  passing  the  time, 
none  can  compare  with  eating  ;  and  nothing  appears 
wanting  to  human  happiness,  but  the  capacity  of  eat- 
ing on  without  stopping,  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave. 
But,  alas!,  people  cannot  gormandize  forever!  and  all 
they  can  do,  after  one  meal,  is  to  anticipate  the  de- 
lights of  another.  When  we  can  feed  no  more,  the 
best  possible  substitute  is  to  think  of  feeding.  Such 
are  the  glorious  effects  of  the  waters  at  the  springs, 
that  they  would  constitute  the  best  substitute  for  Nec- 
tar, or  Bingham,  or  Nabob,  to  be  found  upon  this 
earth,  if  the  good  things  to  be  eaten  were  only  in  pro- 
portion to  our  appetite  to  eat  them.  But,  alas !  truth 
obliges  us  to  confess,  this  is  not  the  case.  No  canvas- 
backs,  no  oysters,  no  turtle,  but  will  cloy  at  last!  — 
no  Goose  and  Gridiron,  no  Droze,  no  Pardessus,  no 
Sykes,  can  stimulate  the  appetite  for  ever !  —  Nay,  no 
Niblo,  high-priest  and  caterer  of  the  gourmands  of 
New  York !  Here  we  would  say,  caterer  of  the  gods 
themselves,  were  we  not  of  opinion  that  they  knew 
little  of  the  importance  of  the  grand  science,  as  ap- 
pears  from  their  omitting  to   ennoble  one   of  their 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  273 

number,  by  installing  him  god  of  eating,  and  thus 
placing  him  above  the  great  Bacchus  himself.  But, 
on  second  thoughts,  this  might  have  arisen  from  the 
jealousy  of  Jove,  who  doubtless  foresaw  that  such  a 
deity  would  monopolize  the  incense  of  mankind,  and 
leave  his  shrine  without  a  votary. 

Well,  therefore,  might  the  great  philosopher  lay  it 
down  as  the  grand  secret  of  human  happiness,  that 
"  we  should  live  to  eat,  and  not  eat  to  live,"  since  in 
this  is  contained  the  true  secret  of  the  summum  ho7ium, 
which  so   puzzled  all  antiquity.      Previous  to   those 
prodigious  steps  in  the  march  of  mind,  which   have 
ennobled  the  present  age  beyond  all  others  that  pre- 
ceded or  that  will  succeed  it,  the  gentler  sex  were 
unhappily  precluded,  in    some    degree,    from    eating 
more  than  was  absolutely  necessary.     Nay,  some  of 
the  most  approved  models  of  heroines  of  romance,  so 
far  as  we  are  without  any  authority  from  the  authors 
of  these  works  to  the  contrary,  never  ate  at  all.     It 
used  to  be  considered  indelicate  for  women  of  fashion 
to  eat  as  if  they  cared  any  thing  about  it ;  and  there 
is  good  authority  for  saying,  that  a  great  match  was 
j  once  broken  oif,  in  consequence  of  the  lady  being  de- 
\  tected  by  her  lover  in  eating  raw  oysters.     But  the 
I  world,  of  late  years,  grows  wiser  much  faster  than  it 
I  grows  older  —  thanks  be  to  the  steam-engines  for  it! 
'  The  interdict  against  female  eating  is  withdrawn,  and 
jit  does  one's  heart  good  to  see  how  the  ladies  enjoy 
jthemselves  at  the   Springs,  and  at  parties  in  town. 
[They  eat  like  so  many  beautiful  little  pigeons,  till  their 
[beautiful  little  craws  seem,  as  if  they  might,  peradven- 
|ture,  burst  their  corsets ;  and  foul  befall  those  egregi- 
ous innovators,  who,  as  we  hear,  are  attempting  to 
I  18 


274  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

revive  the  fashion  of  giving  soirees,  without  the  accom- 
paniments of  oysters,  porter,  and  champagne.  May 
they  be  condemned  to  sponge-cake  and  lemonade  all 
their  lives,  and  be  "  at  home  "  to  nobody,  till  they 
learn  how  to  treat  their  friends. 

One  of  the  phenomena  which  has  puzzled  us  more 
than  almost  any  thing  in  this  w^orld  is,  that  people 
who  meet  together  solely  for  pleasure  shovild  ever  get 
tired  of  themselves  or  their  company.  But  so  it  is ; 
those  who  live  only  for  amusement,  more  than  any 
other  class,  find  time  hanging  on  their  hands.  Hence 
it  is  that  rich  and  fashionable  people  are  so  frequently 
dull,  out  of  humour,  and  splenetic ;  while  the  la- 
bouring classes,  and  those  who  ought  in  reason  and 
propriety  to  be  miserable,  enjoy  an  unaccountable 
hilarity  of  spirits,  and  actually  seem  to  crowd  into 
one  hour  more  real  enjoyment  than  a  man  of  pleas- 
ure, whose  sole  business  is  to  be  happy,  gathers  in  a 
whole  life  of  uninterrupted  pursuit.  How  provoking 
it  is  to  see  a  miserable  linsey-woolsey  villain,  without 
a  solitary  requisite  for  comfort  in  high  life,  laughing, 
and  dancing,  and  revelling  in  an  exuberance  of  spirits,- 
while  a  company  of  people  of  pleasure,  who  have 
nothing  to  do  bvit  be  happy,  will  sit  enveloped  in 
gloom,  dance  as  if  they  were  following  a  funeral,  and 
laugh,  if  they  laugh  at  all,  with  a  melancholy  indiffer- 
ence truly  depressing.  Is  it  possible  that  labour,  or 
at  least  employment  of  some  kind,  is  necessary  to  the 
enjoyment  of  ease,  and  to  the  vivacity  of  the  animal 
spirits  ?  Certainly  it  would  seem  so.  Nobody  laughs 
with  such  glee  as  the  chimney-sweep,  and  the  negro 
slave  of  the  south,  whom  we  are  always  pitying ;  and 
of  all  the  grave  people  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  the 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  275 

North- American  Indian,  who  despises  work,  and  lives 
a  life  of  indolence,  is  the  gravest ;  while  his  wife, 
who  carries  the  burdens,  cultivates  the  corn,  and  per- 
forms all  the  domestic  labours,  is  observed  to  be  gay 
and  cheerful.  It  is  certainly  passing  strange,  though 
it  would  appear  to  be  true,  that  the  people  we  most 
envy,  namely  the  rich  and  the  idle,  enjoy  the  least  of 
life's  sunshine,  though  they  seem  to  be  always  bask- 
ing in  it.  The  old  Indian  affirmed,  that,  among  the 
white  men,  "  the  hog  was  the  only  gentleman,"  for  he 
never  worked,  was  fed  upon  the  best  corn,  and  at  last 
grew  so  fat  he  could  not  walk.  Verily,  the  compari- 
son is  not  far  from  odious ;  but  there  are,  nevertheless, 
certain  mortifying  points  of  resemblance  between  the 
quadruped  and  the  biped  gentleman. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  such  being  the  difficulty  which 
besets  the  hapless  beings  who  in  their  chase  of  pleas- 
ure at  length  run  it  down  at  the  Springs  and  know 
not  what  to  do  with  themselves  afterwards,  we  hold 
him  a  great  public  benefactor,  equal  to  the  father  of 
a  canal  or  a  rail-road  or  a  cotton-manufactory,  who 
shall  devise  ways  and  means  to  rid  these  unfortunate 
beings  —  unfortunate  in  having  too  much  time  and 
money  on  their  hands  —  at  least  of  a  portion  of  the 
former.  After  much  deep  and  intense  cogitation,  we 
have  devised  a  series  of  amusements,  which,  if  fol- 
lowed up  with  proper  industry,  will  seldom,  if  ever, 
fail  of  the  desired  end. 

The  first  and  best  preservative  against  ennui  is  fall- 
ing in  love.  If  you  are  successful,  that  cures  all  evils 
for  the  time  being;  while,  if  otherwise,  the  disappoint- 
ment is  a  specific  for  this  disease,  which  never 
troubles  people  who  have  any  thing  else  to  trouble 
them. 


276  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

Dressing  is  no  bad  preventive,  provided  you  are 
long  enough  about  it,  and  take  a  proper  interest  in 
looking  well.  We  have  known  a  dishabille  give  a 
tone  of  dejection  for  an  entire  day;  and  could  tell 
of  more  than  one  person,  cured  of  a  serious  indispo- 
sition by  resolutely  getting  up,  changing  his  linen, 
displaying  a  new  suit,  shaving  his  beard,  and  per- 
fuming his  whiskers.  Many  ladies  also  have  been 
rescued  from  profound  melancholy,  by  putting  on  a 
brilliant  dress,  with  ear-rings  and  bracelets  which 
proved  remarkably  becoming.  The  oftener  you  dress, 
the  better ;  for,  besides  the  manual  exercise,  the  fre- 
quent change  produces  a  corresponding  succession  of 
ideas,  and  a  consequent  gentle  exercise  of  the  animal 
spirits  which  is  highly  salutary.  Gay  colours  are 
best,  as  they  make  people  look  cheerful,  which  is  the 
next  thing  to  being  cheerful.  After  all,  we  are  but 
chameleons,  and  owe  the  colour  of  our  minds  to  out- 
ward objects. 

Gentlemen  have  a  great  resource  in  the  reading- 
room,  provided  they  have  a  literary  turn,  and  are  re- 
duced to  great  extremity  to  pass  the  morning.  We 
recollect  a  literary  character  at  the  Springs,  who 
spent  three  hours  over  the  newspapers  every  day,  yet 
could  never  tell  the  news,  nor  the  day  of  the  week. 
Ladies  must,  however,  be  careful  to  read  nothing  but 
romances,  lest  they  should  pass  for  blue-stockings, 
which,  among  the  fashionables,  are  considered  synony- 
mous with  blue-devils. 

Music  and  reading-parties  are  not  bad  in  a  rainy 
day.  A  little  music,  provided  it  is  not  out  of  tune  or 
time,  will  while  away  the  leaden  hours  of  pleasure 
wonderfully,  when  there  are  admiring  beaux,  who  can 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  277 

relish  pure  Italian,  to  listen  and  applaud.  Beware 
however  of  di  tanti  palpiti,  which  is  grown  so  com- 
mon that  the  very  sweeps  whistle  it  while  making  their 
way  up  chimney.  When  any  thing  gets  so  common 
with  the  vulgar,  it  is  beneath  the  notice  or  patronage 
of  people  of  fashion,  however  beautiful  it  may  be. 
The  greatest,  and  at  the  same  time  the  sole,  objection 
to  eating,  drinking,  sleeping  and  breathing,  is,  that  we 
enjoy  them  in  common  with  the  brutes,  and  the  vul- 
gar who  are  little  better.  Moore's  songs  ought  al- 
ways to  be  preferred  on  these  occasions,  because  they 
are  altogether  sentimental,  or  sensual,  which  is  quite 
synonymous  nowadays.  Next  to  actual  kissings,  em- 
bracings,  palpitations,  honeyed  meetings,  and  heart- 
rending adieus,  is  the  description  of  these  things  in 
luscious  verse,  aided  by  the  magic  strains  of  melting 
melody.  It  almost  makes  one  feel  as  if  really  going 
through  these  delightful  evolutions.  It  is  not  worth 
while  to  mind  what  stiff  people,  who  affect  decorum 
of  speech,  say  on  the  subject.  There  are  many  mat- 
ters that  may  be  sung,  but  not  said.  One  may  sing 
about  things  which  it  would  be  thought  rather  critical 
to  talk  about. 

In  respect  to  reading,  it  is  much  to  be  regretted 
that  we  have  nothing  new  of  Lord  Byron,  but  his  hel- 
met. This,  we  understand,  is  to  be  exhibited  at  the 
Springs,  the  present  season,  provided  it  is  not  dis- 
posed of  to  a  valiant  militia  officer,  who  is  said  to  be 
in  treaty  for  the  same.  Formerly  the  literary  society 
of  the  Springs  could  calculate  upon  a  new  canto  of 
Don  Juan  every  month,  redolent  with  the  inspiration 
of  misanthrophy  and  "  gin  and  water ; "  *  but  now,  at 

*  See  Leigh  Hunt's  notice  of  Lord  Byron's  life  and  habits. 


276  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

Dressing  is  no  bad  preventive,  provided  you  are 
long  enough  about  it,  and  take  a  proper  interest  in 
looking  well.  We  have  known  a  dishabille  give  a 
tone  of  dejection  for  an  entire  day ;  and  could  tell 
of  more  than  one  person,  cured  of  a  serious  indispo- 
sition by  resolutely  getting  up,  changing  his  linen, 
displaying  a  new  suit,  shaving  his  beard,  and  per- 
fuming his  whiskers.  Many  ladies  also  have  been 
rescued  from  profound  melancholy,  by  putting  on  a 
brilliant  dress,  with  ear-rings  and  bracelets  which 
proved  remarkably  becoming.  The  oftener  you  dress, 
the  better ;  for,  besides  the  manual  exercise,  the  fre- 
quent change  produces  a  corresponding  succession  of 
ideas,  and  a  consequent  gentle  exercise  of  the  animal 
spirits  which  is  highly  salutary.  Gay  colours  are 
best,  as  they  make  people  look  cheerful,  which  is  the 
next  thing  to  being  cheerful.  After  all,  we  are  but 
chameleons,  and  owe  the  colour  of  our  minds  to  out- 
ward objects. 

Gentlemen  have  a  great  resource  in  the  reading- 
room,  provided  they  have  a  literary  turn,  and  are  re- 
duced to  great  extremity  to  pass  the  morning.  We 
recollect  a  literary  character  at  the  Springs,  who 
spent  three  hours  over  the  newspapers  every  day,  yet 
could  never  tell  the  news,  nor  the  day  of  the  week. 
Ladies  must,  however,  be  careful  to  read  nothing  but 
romances,  lest  they  should  pass  for  blue-stockings, 
which,  among  the  fashionables,  are  considered  synony- 
mous with  blue-devils. 

Music  and  reading-parties  are  not  bad  in  a  rainy 
day.  A  little  music,  provided  it  is  not  out  of  tune  or 
time,  will  while  away  the  leaden  hours  of  pleasure 
wonderfully,  when  there  are  admiring  beaux,  who  can 


THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS.  277 

relish  pure  Italian,  to  listen  and  applaud.  Beware 
however  of  di  tanti  palpiti,  which  is  grown  so  com- 
mon that  the  very  sweeps  whistle  it  while  making  their 
way  up  chimney.  When  any  thing  gets  so  common 
with  the  vulgar,  it  is  beneath  the  notice  or  patronage 
of  people  of  fashion,  however  beautiful  it  may  be. 
The  greatest,  and  at  the  same  time  the  sole,  objection 
to  eating,  drinking,  sleeping  and  breathing,  is,  that  we 
enjoy  them  in  common  with  the  brutes,  and  the  vul- 
gar who  are  little  better.  Moore's  songs  ought  al- 
ways to  be  preferred  on  these  occasions,  because  they 
are  altogether  sentimental,  or  sensual,  which  is  quite 
synonymous  nowadays.  Next  to  actual  kissings,  em- 
bracings,  palpitations,  honeyed  meetings,  and  heart- 
rending adieus,  is  the  description  of  these  things  in 
luscious  verse,  aided  by  the  magic  strains  of  melting 
melody.  It  almost  makes  one  feel  as  if  really  going 
through  these  delightful  evolutions.  It  is  not  worth 
while  to  mind  w^hat  stiff  people,  who  affect  decorum 
of  speech,  say  on  the  subject.  There  are  many  mat- 
ters that  may  be  sung,  but  not  said.  One  may  sing 
about  things  which  it  would  be  thought  rather  critical 
to  talk  about. 

In  respect  to  reading,  it  is  much  to  be  regretted 
that  we  have  nothing  new  of  Lord  Byron,  but  his  hel- 
met. This,  we  understand,  is  to  be  exhibited  at  the 
Springs,  the  present  season,  provided  it  is  not  dis- 
posed of  to  a  valiant  militia  officer,  who  is  said  to  be 
in  treaty  for  the  same.  Formerly  the  literary  society 
of  the  Springs  could  calculate  upon  a  new  canto  of 
Don  Juan  every  month,  redolent  with  the  inspiration 
of  misanthrophy  and  "  gin  and  water ; "  *  but  now,  at 

*  See  Leigh  Hunt's  notice  of  Lord  Byron's  life  and  habits. 


278  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

least  with  the  exception  of  this  present  work,  unless  a 
Waverley  or  a  Cooper  tumbles  down  from  the  sum- 
mit of  Parnassus,  there  is  scarcely  any  thing  worth 
reading  but  Souvenirs,  which  unluckily  appear  so  out 
of  season,  that  they  are  a  hundred  years  old  before 
the  spring,  that  is,  the  spring  of  fashionable  life  at  the 
Springs,  arrives,  with  all  the  birds  of  passage  in  its 
train.  In  this  dilemma,  the  choice  must  be  left  to  the 
judgment  of  the  party,  with  this  solemn  caution,  to 
select  no  work  that  is  more  than  a  month  old. 

People  who  are  not  addicted  to  deep  studies  may 
manage  to  get  through  a  long  storm  pretty  tolerably, 
by  looking  out  at  a  window,  and  wondering  when  it 
will  clear  off.  A  north-east  storm  of  two  or  three 
days  is  the  most  trying  time;  for,  as  nobody  thinks 
of  a  fire  in  summer  though  it  be  never  so  cold,  the 
votaries  of  pleasure  have  no  other  resource  than 
going  to  bed  to  keep  themselves  from  an  ague.  Gen- 
tlemen who  play  have  a  never-failing  panacea  for  all 
vicissitudes  of  the  weather,  which  pass  unfelt  and  un- 
noticed, in  the  delightful  excitement  of  winning  and 
losing.  The  best  way  to  guard  against  these  storms 
is  to  shut  the  windows,  lock  the  doors,  light  candles, 
and  turn  day  into  night,  as  there  are  certain  amuse- 
ments which  are  only  proper  for  darkness  and  ob- 
scurity. 

In  addition  to  these  domestic  enjoyments,  pastime 
may  be  found  without  doors  in  pleasant  weather. 
For  example,  there  is  the  excursion  to  Saratoga  Lake, 
to  ramble  along  its  banks,  or  fish,  or  flirt,  or  do  any 
other  fashionable  thing.  The  water  of  the  lake  is  so 
pure  and  transparent,  that  people  with  tolerable  eyes 
may  see  their  faces  in  it.     Hence  arises  a  great  ad- 


THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.      279 

vantage;  for  young  persons,  who  don't  care  to  contem- 
plate any  beauties  but  their  own,  may  thus  behold 
them  in  the  greatest  perfection.  More  than  one  Nar- 
cissus hath  admired  himself  there,  and  pined  to  death 
for  love  of  his  own  image ;  and  many  a  fair  and 
unsuspecting  damsel,  that  never  saw  herself  in  gilded 
mirror,  has  here,  for  the  first  time,  become  conscious 
of  her  charms.  So  vivid  are  the  pictures  thus  dis- 
played, and  so  true  to  nature,  that  a  young  fellow  of 
our  intimate  acquaintance,  who  had  somewhat  spoiled 
a  pair  of  good  eyes  by  eternally  squinting  through 
a  glass  because  it  was  the  lashion,  once  actually  mis- 
took the  shadow  of  a  young  heiress  in  the  lake  for 
the  young  heiress  herself,  and  jumped  in  to  save  her 
from  drowning.  The  lady  was  so  touched  by  this 
gallant  mistake,  that  she  took  the  will  for  the  deed, 
and  the  young  man  into  the  bargain.  N.  B.  The 
fish  are  not  worth  the  trouble  of  catching ;  but  the  men 
that  go  there,  are  —  sometimes  :  so  with  the  ladies. 

There  are  fine  trout  in  Barheit's  Pond,  to  which 
there  is  a  pleasant  ride  through  the  pine  woods ;  at 
least  they  say  there  are  fine  trout,  if  one  could  only 
catch  them  with  any  thing  but  a  silver  hook.  But 
such  is  the  staid  allegiance  of  these  loyal  fishes,  that 
they  will  not  suffer  themselves  to  be  hooked  by  any 
body  but  their  sovereign  lord,  the  proprietor  of  the 
waters.  We  ourselves  have  fished  in  this  famous 
pool,  till  a  great  spider  came  and  wove  his  web,  from 
the  tip  of  our  nose  to  the  tip-end  of  our  fishing-rod, 
and  caught  several  flies.  But  we  caught  no  fish,  nor 
would  St.  Anthony  himself,  we  verily  believe,  had  he 
preached  ever  such  sound  doctrines.  N.  B.  Mine  host 
may  possibly  hite^  though  the  trout  won't. 


282  THE   NEW   MIRROR   FOR   TRAVELLERS. 

vain  hath  Professor  Silliman  essayed  to  neutralize 
these  conflicting  and  angry  waters,  by  impartially 
bearing  testimony  to  the  unequalled  merits  of  both, 
unknowing  that  there  exist  antipathies  which  are  not 
dreamt  of  in  his  chemistry.  The  war  still  rages,  and 
will  continue  to  rage  till  Ballston  and  Saratoga,  like 
Babylon  and  Nineveh,  are  no  more,  and  their  sweet 
waters,  for  the  sins  of  the  people,  turned  into  Dead 
Seas  and  lakes  of  sulphur. 

It  may  however  happen,  since  all  things  are  possi- 
ble in  this  wonderful  age,  that,  notwithstanding  all 
these  expedients,  these  varied  and  never-ending  de- 
lights, people  may  be  at  last  overtaken,  even  here,  by 
the  fiend  ennui,  which  seems  to  have  been  created  on 
purpose  to  confound  the  rich  and  happy.  In  that 
case,  they  may  as  well  give  up  the  pursuit  of  happi- 
ness at  once,  as  desperate.  There  is  nothing  beyond 
the  SPRINGS ;  they  are  the  ultima  Thule  of  the  fashion- 
able world,  and  those  who  find  not  pleasure  there 
may  as  well  die  at  once  —  or  go  home.  In  vain  will 
they  toil  on  to  "  Old  Ti,"  the  Plains  of  Abraham,  the 
Falls  of  Montmorenci,  and  the  Lord  knows  where  — 
in  vain  fly  from  Ballston  to  Saratoga,  from  Saratoga 
to  Ballston,  from  Ballston  to  Lebanon,  from  Lebanon 
to  Rockaway,  and  from  Rockaway  to  Long  Branch, 
where  they  may  have  the  satisfaction  of  bathing  in 
the  same  ocean  with  people  of  the  first  fashion.  It  is 
all  useless.  Let  them  despair,  and  go  home ;  and,  as 
a  last  forlorn  hope,  endeavour  to  find  happiness  in 
administering  to  the  welfare  of  those  around  them, 
an  expedient  we  have  actually  known  to  be  successful 
in  more  than  one  instance.  Let  the  young  ladies 
devote  themselves  to  working  caps  for  a  time  of  need ; 


THE  NEW  MIKROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS.      283 

their  mothers  devote  themselves  to  their  household 
gods ;  their  husbands,  to  planting  trees,  breeding 
merinos,  and  cultivating  politics  and  ruta-bagas ;  the 
brokers,  to  shaving  closer  than  ever,  to  make  up  for 
lost  time;  the  dandy,  to  the  limits;  and  his  spruce 
rival,  the  shop-keeper,  to  his  counter.      We  have  said. 

And  now,  gentle  tourist!,  having  conducted  thee 
safely,  (and,  we  hope,  pleasantly),  to  the  sanctuary, 
where  if  thou  findest  not  happiness  it  is  not  our  fault, 
(since  we  have  shown  thee  where  she  dwells  and  how 
to  woo  her),  we  bid  thee  an  affectionate  farewell,  cau- 
tioning thee,  as  a  last  proof  of  our  solicitude  for  thy 
welfare,  not  to  go  to  Niagara,  lest,  peradventure,  thou 
shouldest  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  "  Morgan  Com- 
mittee." Mayest  thou  —  to  include  all  in  one  con- 
summate wish  —  mayest  thou  pass  thy  whole  life  in 
travelling  for  pleasure,  meeting  with  glorious  enter- 
tainment by  the  way,  and,  at  length,  find  peace  and 
repose  at  that  inn  where,  sooner  or  later,  all  mankind 
take  up  their  last  night's  lodging. 


THE 


NYMPH   OF   THE   MOUNTAIN, 


NYMPH    OF   THE    MOUNTAIN. 


In  a  certain  corner  of  The  Bay  State  there  once 
stood,  and  we  hope  will  continue  to  flourish  long  and 
happily,  a  snug  town,  now  promoted  to  be  a  city,  the 
name  of  which  is  not  material  to  our  purpose.  Here, 
in  a  great  shingle  palace,  which  would  have  been  a 
very  comfortable  edifice  had  it  only  been  finished, 
lived  a  reputable  widow,  well  to  do  in  the  world,  and 
the  happy  mother  of  a  promising  lad,  a  wonderful 
clever  boy,  as  might  be  expected.  In  fact,  Shear- 
jashub  (that  was  his  name)  was  no  bad  specimen  of 
the  country  lad.  He  was  hardy,  abstemious,  indepen- 
dent, and  cute  withal;  and,  before  he  was  a  man 
grown,  made  a  great  bargain  once  out  of  a  travelling 
merchant,  a  Scotchman,  who  chanced  that  w^ay.  Be- 
sides this,  he  was  a  mechanical  genius ;  and,  though 
far  from  being  lazy,  delighted  in  the  invention  of 
labour-saving  machines,  some  of  which  were  odd 
enough.  He  peeled  all  his  mother's  pumpkins  by 
water,  and  spun  her  flax  with  a  windmill.  Nay,  it 
was  reported  of  him  that  he  once  invented  a  machine 
for  digging  graves  upon  speculation,  by  which  he 
calculated   he  should  certainly  have  made  his  fortune, 


288        THE  NYMPH  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN. 

had  not  the  people  of  the  village  all  with  one  accord 
taken  it  into  their  heads  to  live  for  ever.  The  name 
of  the  family  was  Yankee,  they  having  been  the  first 
that  had  intercom-se  with  the  Indians,  who  called 
them  Yankee,  because  they  could  not  say  English. 

The  Widow  Yankee  was  a  right  pious,  meeting- 
going  woman,  who  held  it  to  be  a  great  want  of  faith 
not  to  believe  in  everything;  especially  everything 
out  of  the  way  and  impossible.  She  was  a  special 
amateur  of  demonology  and  witchcraft.  Moreover, 
she  was  gifted  with  a  reasonable  share  of  curiosity, 
though  it  is  recorded  that  once  she  came  very  near 
missing  to  get  at  the  bottom  of  a  secret.  The  story 
ran  as  follows :  — 

One  day,  as  she  was  sitting  at  her  window,  which 
had  a  happy  aspect  for  overlooking  the  affairs  of  the 
village,  she  saw  a  man  of  mysterious  mien,  with  a 
stick  in  his  hand  and  a  pipe  in  his  mouth,  walking 
exactly  three  feet  behind  a  white  cow.  The  same 
thing  happened  precisely  at  the  same  hour  in  the 
same  manner  the  next  day,  and  so  continued  for  some 
time.  The  first  week,  the  widow  began  to  think  it 
rather  odd;  the  second,  she  thought  it  quite  strange; 
the  third,  it  became  altogether  incomprehensible ;  and 
the  fourth,  the  poor  woman  took  to  her  bed,  of  the 
disease  of  the  man  and  the  cow. 

Doctor  Calomel  undertook  the  cure  in  a  new  and 
original  manner,  to  wit,  without  the  use  of  medicine. 
He  wrought  upon  the  mysterious  cow-driver  to  come 
to  the  widow's  house,  and  tell  her  the  whole  secret 
of  the  business.  When  he  came  into  the  room  the 
sick  woman  raised  herself  up,  and  in  a  faint  voice 
addressed  him  as  follows;  — 


THE  NYMPH  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN.        289 

"  Inscrutable  man !  I  conjure  thee  to  tell  me  what 
under  the  sun  makes  thee  always  follow  that  cow 
about  every  day  at  the  same  hour,  and  at  the  same 
distance  from  her  tail  ?  " 

"  Because  the  cow  always  goes  before  me  ",  replied 
he. 

Upon  which  the  w^idow  jumped  out  of  her  sick  bed, 
seized  an  old  shoe,  flung  it  at  his  head,  and  was  mi- 
raculously cured  from  that  moment.  Doctor  Calomel 
got  into  great  practice  thereupon. 

Shearjashub  inherited  a  considerable  share  of  his 
mother's  inquiring  disposition,  and  was  very  inquisi- 
tive about  the  affairs  of  other  people ;  but,  to  do  him 
justice,  he  took  pretty  good  care  to  keep  his  own  to 
himself,   like  a  discreet  lad  as  he  was.     Having  in- 
vented so  many  labour-saving  machines,  Jashub,  as 
he  was  usually  called  by  the  neighbours,  thought  it 
was  great  nonsense  to  work,  himself;  so  he  set  his 
machines  going,  and  took  to  the  amusement  of  killing 
time,  which,  in   a   country  village,   is  no  such  easy 
matter.     It  requires  a  considerable  share  of  ingenuity. 
His  favourite  mode  of  doing  this  was  taking  his  gun 
'    on  his  shoulder,  and  sallying  forth  into  the  fields  and 
woods,  followed  by  a  cur,  whose  genealogy  was  per- 
'    fectly  abstruse.     Nobody  could  tell  to  what  family  he 
il  belonged ;  though  certain  it  was,  that  he  was  neither 
!    "mongrel,  puppy,  whelp,  nor  hound,"  but  a  cur  of 
I   low  degree,  whose  delight  was  to  bask  in  the  sun, 
j  when  he  was  not  out  with  his  young  master. 

In  this  way  Jashub  would  pass  day  after  day,  in 
I  what  he  called  sporting ;  that  is  to  say,  toiling  through 
I  tangled  woods  and  rough  bog-meadows  and  swamps, 
I  that  quivered  like  a  jelly  at  every  step,  and  returning 
!  19 


290         THE  NYMPH  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN. 

home  at  night  hungry  as  well  as  tired.  Report  said 
that  he  never  was  known  to  shoot  anything;  and 
thus  far  his  time  was  spent  innocently,  if  not  improv- 

One  fast-day,  early  in  the  spring  of  1776,  Jashub 
went  forth  as  usual,  with  his  gun  on  his  shoulder, 
and  little  Snap,  (such  was  the  name  of  the  dog),  at 
his  heels.  The  early  May  had  put  on  all  her  charms; 
a  thousand  little  patches  of  wild  violets  were  peeping 
forth  with  deep  blue  eyes ;  a  thousand,  yea,  tens  of 
thousands  of  buds  were  expanding  into  leaves,  apace; 
and  crowds  of  chirping  birds  were  singing  a  hymn  to 
ever-gracious  Spring.  Jashub  could  not  find  it  in  his 
heart  to  fire  at  them ;  and  if  he  had  fired,  there  would 
have  been  no  danger,  except  of  frightening  the  little 
warblers,  and  arresting  their  song. 

Beguiled  by  the  beauties  of  Nature  and  her  charm- 
ing music,  Jashub  almost  unconsciously  wandered  on 
until  he  came  to  the  opening  of  a  deep  glen  in  the 
mountain,  which  rose  at  some  miles  distance,  west  of 
the  village.  It  was  formed  by  the  passage  of  a  pure 
crystal  stream,  which,  in  the  course  of  ages,  or  perhaps 
by  a  single  effort,  had  made  a  cleft  in  the  mountain, 
about  twenty  yards  wide,  ten  of  which  were  occupied 
by  the  brook,  which  silently  wound  its  way  along  the 
base  of  steep  and  rocky  precipices  several  hundred 
feet  high,  that  formed  the  barriers  of  the  glen  on  either 
side.  These  towering  masses  of  gray  eternity  were 
here  and  there  green  with  the  adventurous  laurel, 
which,  fastening  its  roots  in  the  crevices,  nodded  over 
the  dizzy  steep ;  and  at  intervals  a  little  spring  stole 
forth,  high  up  among  the  lichen-covered  rocks,  and 
trickled  down  their  sides  in  threads  of  silvery  bright- 


THE  NYMPH  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN.        291 

ness.  In  other  places  patches  of  isinglass  appeared, 
sparkling  against  the  sober  masses,  and  communicat- 
ing a  singularly  lustrous  character  to  the  scene,  which 
had  otherwise  been  all  grim  and  disheartening. 

Jashub  gazed  a  while  in  apprehensive  wonder,  as 
he  stood  at  the  entrance  of  these  everlasting  gates. 
Curiosity  prompted  him  to  enter  and  explore  the  re- 
cesses within,  while  a  certain  vague  unwillingness 
deterred  him.  At  length  curiosity,  or  perhaps  fate, 
which  had  decreed  that  he  should  become  the  instru- 
ment of  her  great  designs,  prevailed  against  all  oppo- 
sition, and  he  entered  the  portals  of  this  majestic 
palace  of  nature.  He  slowly  advanced  —  sometimes 
arrested  by  a  certain  feeling  of  mysterious  awe,  and 
again  driven  on  by  the  power  which  had  assumed  the 
direction  of  his  conduct.  At  length  he  arrived  at  the 
centre  of  the  hallowed  solitude.  Not  a  living  thing 
breathed  around  him,  except  his  little  dog;  and  his 
gun  trembled  in  his  hand.  All  was  gloom,  silence, 
isolation.  The  brook  poured  forth  no  murmurs;  the 
birds  and  insects  seemed  to  have  avoided  the  unsunned 
region,  where  everlasting  twilight  reigned ;  and  the 
scream  of  the  hawks,  pursuing  their  way  across  the 
deep  chasm,  was  hushed  as  they  passed. 

Jashub  was  arrested  by  the  melancholy  grandeur 
of  the  scene,  and  his  dog  looked  wistfully  in  his  face, 
as  if  he  wanted  to  go  home.  As  he  stood  thus  lin- 
gering, leaning  on  his  gun,  a  merry  strain  broke  forth 
upon  the  terrible  silence,  and  echoed  through  the  glen. 
The  sound  made  him  suddenly  start,  in  doing  which 
his  foot  somehow  or  other  caught  in  the  lock  of  his 
gun,  which  he  had  forgot  to  uncock,  as  was  usual 
with  him,  and  caused  it  to  go  off.     The  explosion 


292        THE  NYMPH  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN. 

rang  through  the  recesses  of  the  glen  in  a  hundred 
repetitions,  which  were  answered  by  the  howlings  of 
the  little  dog.  As  the  echoes  gradually  subsided,  and 
the  smoke  cleared  away,  the  tune  again  cominenced. 
It  was  a  careless,  lively  air,  such  as  suited  the  taste 
of  the  young  man,  and  he  forgot  his  fears  in  his  love 
of  music. 

As  he  stood  thus  entranced,  he  heard  a  voice,  sweet, 
yet  animating  as  the  clear  sound  of  a  trumpet,  ex- 
claim, 

"  Shearjashub  !   Shearjashub  !  " 

Jashub's  heart  bounded  into  his  throat,  and  pre- 
vented his  answering.  He  loaded  his  gun,  and  stood 
on  the  defensive. 

In  a  moment  after,  the  same  trumpet-voice  repeated 
the  same  words, 

"  Shearjashub !   Shearjashub  !  " 

"  What  d'ye  want,  you  tarnal  critter?"  at  length 
the  young  man  answered,  with  a  degree  of  courage 
that  afterwards  astonished  him. 

"  Listen  —  and  look !  " 

He  listened  and  looked,  but  saw  nothing,  until  a 
little  flourish  of  the  same  sprightly  tune  directed  his 
attention  to  the  spot  whence  it  came. 

High  on  the  summit  of  the  highest  perpendicular 
cliff*,  which  shone  gorgeously  with  sparkling  isinglass, 
seated  under  the  shade  of  a  tuft  of  laurels,  he  beheld 
a  female  figure,  holding  a  little  flageolet,  and  playing 
the  lively  air  which  he  had  just  heard.  Her  height, 
notwithstanding  the  distance,  appeared  majestic ;  the 
flash  of  her  bright  beaming  eyes  illumined  the  depths 
of  the  gloom,  and  her  bearing  was  that  of  a  goddess. 
She  was  dressed  in  simple  robes  of  virgin  white,  and 


I 


THE  NYMPH  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN.        293 

on  her  head  she  wore  a  cap,  such  as  has  since  been 
consecrated  to  Liberty  by  my  gallant  countrymen. 

Shearjashub  looked,  trembled,  and  was  silent.  In 
a  few  minutes,  however,  his  recollection  returned. 

"  Shearjashub  I "  exclaimed  the  lady  of  the  rock, 
« listen ! " 

But  Shearjashub  had  given  leg-bail.  Both  he  and 
his  faithful  friend,  little  Snap,  had  left  the  haunted 
glen  as  fast  as  their  feet  would  carry  them. 

He  told  the  story  when  he  got  home,  with  some 
venial  exaggeration.  Nobody  believed  him  except 
the  widow,  his  honoured  mother,  who  had  faith  to 
swallow  a  camel.  All  the  rest  laughed  at  him,  and 
the  wicked  damsels  of  the  village  were  always  joking 
about  his  mountain  sweetheart. 

At  last  he  got  out  of  patience,  and  one  day  de- 
manded of  those  who  were  bantering  him  what  proof 
they  would  have  of  the  truth  of  his  story. 

"  Why,"  said  old  Deacon  Mayhew,  "  I  guess  I 
should  be  considerably  particular  satisfied,  if  you 
would  bring  us  hum  that  same  fife  you  heard  the  gal 
play  on  so  finely." 

"  And  I,"  said  another,  "  will  believe  the  young 
squire,  if  he'll  play  the  same  tune  on  it  he  heard  yon- 
der in  the  mountain." 

Shearjashub  was  so  pestered  and  provoked  at  last, 
that  he  determined  to  put  his  courage  to  the  proof, 
and  see  whether  it  would  bear  him  out  in  another 
visit  to  the  chasm  in  the  mountain.  He  thought  he 
might  as  well  be  dead  as  have  no  comfort  of  his  life. 

"  I'll  be  darned  if  I  don't  go,"  said  he ;  and  away  he 
went,  with  no  other  company  than  his  little  dog.  It 
was  on  the  fourth  day  of  July,  1776,  that  Shearjashub 
wrought  himself  up  to  a  second  visit. 


294        THE  NYMPH  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN. 

"  I'm  just  come  of  age  this  very  day,"  said  he,  "  and 
I'll  show  the  critters  I'm  not  made  a  man  for  nothing." 

He  certainly  felt,  as  he  afterwards  confessed,  a  little 
skittish  on  this  occasion,  and  his  dog  seemed  not  much 
to  relish  the  excursion.  Shearjashub  had  his  gun,  but 
had  not  the  heart  to  fire  at  any  of  the  birds  that  flitted 
about  and  seemed  as  if  they  were  not  afraid  of  com- 
ing nigh  him.  His  mind  ran  upon  other  matters  en- 
tirely. He  was  a  long  while  on  his  way.  Sometimes 
he  would  stop  to  rest,  as  he  said  to  himself,  though 
he  was  not  in  the  least  tired;  sometimes  he  found 
himself  standing  still,  admiring  nothing;  and  once  or 
twice  actually  detected  his  feet  moving  on  the  route 
home,  instead  of  towards  the  mountain. 

On  arriving  at  the  vast  gates  that,  as  it  were, 
guarded  the  entrance  to  the  glen,  he  halted  to  con- 
sider the  matter.  All  was  quietude,  and  sublimity. 
His  spirit  at  first  sunk  under  the  majesty  of  nature, 
but  at  length  became  gradually  inspired  by  the  scene 
before  him  with  something  of  a  kindred  dignity.  He 
marched  forward  with  a  vigorous  step  and  firm  heart, 
rendered  the  more  firm  by  hearing  and  seeing  nothing 
of  the  white  nymph  of  the  rock  or  her  gay  music.  He 
hardly  knew  whether  he  wished  to  see  her  or  not, 
thinking,  if  she  appeared,  he  might  be  tempted  to  run 
away  again ;  and  if  she  did  not,  the  deacon  and  the 
girls  would  laugh  at  him  worse  than  ever. 

With  these  conflicting  thoughts  he  arrived  at  the 
very  centre  of  the  gloomy  solitude,  where  he  stood  a 
few  moments,  expecting  to  hear  the  music.  All  was 
loneliness.  Repose  lay  sleeping  on  his  bed  of  rocks, 
and  Silence  reigned  in  her  chosen  retreat. 

"  Is  it  possible  that  I  was  dreaming  the  other  day, 


THE  NYMPH  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN.        295 

when  T  was  here,  as  those  tarnal  critters  twitted  me  I 
was  ?  "  asked  the  young  man  of  himself. 

He  was  answered  by  the  voice  of  the  white  girl  of 
the  mouiitain,  exclaiming,  in  the  same  sweet  yet  clear, 
animating,  trumpet-tones, 

"  Shearjashub!   Shearjashub!  listen." 

Jashub's  legs  felt  some  little  inclination  to  run 
away ;  but  this  time  he  kept  his  ground  like  a  brave 
fellow. 

Again  the  same  cheerful  air  echoed  through  the 
silence  of  the  deep  profound,  in  strains  of  attractive 
yet  simple,  careless  vivacity.  Shearjashub  began  to 
feel  himself  inspired.  He  bobbed  his  head  from  side 
to  side  to  suit  the  notes,  and  was  once  or  twice  on 
the  point  of  cutting  a  caper. 

He  felt  his  bosom  thrill  with  unwonted  energies, 
and  a  new  vis^our  animate  his  frame  as  he  contem- 
plated  the  glorious  figure  of  the  mountain  nymph, 
and  listened  to  her  sprightly  flageolet. 

"  Shearjashub  I "  cried  the  nymph,  after  finishing 
her  strain  of  music,  "  listen  !  " 

"  Speak  —  I  hear,"  said  the  young  man. 

"  My  name  is  Liberty:  dost  thou  know  me?" 

"  I  have  heard  my  father  and  grandfather  speak  of 
thee,  and  say  they  came  to  the  New  World  to  seek 
thee." 

"  Well,  I  am  found  at  last.     Listen  to  me." 

"  Speak  on." 

"  Your  country  has  just  devoted  herself  for  ever  to 
me  and  my  glory.  Your  countrymen  have  this  day 
pronounced  themselves  freemen,  and  they  shall  be 
what  they  have  w^illed,  in  spite  of  fate  or  fortune. 
But  my  blessings  are  never  thrown  away  on  cow- 


296         THE  NYMPH  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN. 

ards ;  they  are  to  be  gained  by  toil,  suffering,  hunger, 
wounds,  and  death  ;  by  courage  and  perseverance  ;  by 
virtue  and  patriotism.  The  wrath  and  the  mighty 
energies  of  the  oppressor  are  now  directed  against 
your  people  ;  hunger  assails  them  ;  force  overmatches 
them  ;  and  their  spirits  begin  to  fail.  Take  this  pipe," 
—  and  she  flung  him  the  little  flageolet,  which  he 
caught  in  his  hand.     "  Canst  thou  play  on  it  ?     Try." 

He  put  it  to  his  lips,  and,  to  his  surprise,  produced 
the  same  animatins:  strain  he  had  heard  from  the 
nymph  of  the  mountain. 

"  Now  go  forth  among  the  people  and  their  armies, 
and  inspire  them  for  battle.  Wherever  thou  goest 
with  thy  pipe,  and  whenever  thou  playest  that  air,  I 
will  be  with  thee  and  thy  countrymen.  Go,  fear  not; 
those  who  deserve  me  shall  always  win  me.  Fare- 
well —  we  shall  meet  again." 

So  saying,  she  vanished  behind  a  tuft  of  laurels. 

Shearjashub  marched  straight  home  with  his  pipe, 
and  somehow  or  other  felt  he  did  not  quite  know  how ; 
he  felt  as  if  he  could  eat  gunpowder,  and  snap  his  fin- 
gers at  the  minister. 

"  What  the  dickens  has  got  in  the  critter  ? "  said 
the  deacon,  when  he  saw  him  strutting  along  like  a 
captain  of  militia. 

"  I  declare,  Jashub  looks  like  a  continental,"  ex- 
claimed the  girls. 

Just  then  Shearjashub  put  his  pipe  to  his  mouth, 
and  played  the  tune  he  had  learned,  as  if  by  magic, 
from  the  mountain  nymph ;  whereat  Deacon  May- 
hew  made  for  the  meeting-house,  (whither  all  the  vil- 
lagers followed  him),  and  preached  a  sermon,  calling 
on    the  people  to  rise  and  fight  for  liberty,  in  such 


THE  NYMPH  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN.        297 

stirring  strains  that  forthwith  all  the  men,  young  and 
old,  took  their  muskets  and  went  out  in  defence  of 
their  country,  under  the  command  of  Shearjashub. 
Wherever  he  came  he  played  the  magic  tune  on  his 
pipe,  and  the  men,  like  those  of  his  native  village, 
took  to  their  arms,  and  went  forth  to  meet  the  op- 
pressor, like  little  David  against  Goliath. 

They  joined  the  army  of  Liberty,  which  they  found 
dispirited  with  defeat,  and  weak  with  suffering  and 
want.  They  scarcely  dared  hope  for  success  to  their 
cause,  and  a  general  gloom  depressed  the  hearts  of  all 
the  true  friends  of  freedom.  In  this  state  the  enemy 
attacked  them,  and  threw  them  into  confusion,  when 
Shearjashub  came  on  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  playing 
his  inspiring  music  with  might  and  main.  And,  as 
he  came,  the  sounds  seemed  to  awaken  the  spirit  of 
heroism  in  every  breast.  Those  who  were  retreating 
rallied ;  and  those  who  stood  their  ground  maintained 
it  more  stoutly  than  ever.  The  victory  remained  with 
the  sons  of  Liberty,  and  Shearjashub  celebrated  it 
with  the  marvellous  air,  which  echoed  through  the 
whole  land,  and  wakened  it  to  new  triumphs. 

After  a  hard  and  bloody  struggle,  in  which  the  pipe 
of  Shearjashub  animated  the  very  clods  of  the  valley 
wherever  he  went,  the  promise  of  the  nymph  of  the 
mountain  was  fulfilled.  The  countrymen  of  Shear- 
jashub were  free  and  independent.  They  were  about 
to  repose  under  the  laurels  they  had  reaped,  and  to 
wear  what  they  had  so  dearly  won. 

Shearjashub  also  departed  for  his  native  village 
tvith  his  pipe,  which  had  so  materially  assisted  in  the 
attainment  of  the  blessings  of  freedom.  His  way  lay 
through  the  chasm  in  the  mountain,  where  he  first 


298  THE   NYxMPH   OF   THE   MOUNTAIN. 

encountered  the  nymph  with  the  cap  and  snow-white 
robe.  He  was  anticipating  the  happiness  of  seeing 
his  aged  mother,  who  had  lived  through  the  long  war, 
principally  on  the  excitement  of  news,  and  the  still 
more  near  and  dear  happiness  of  taking  to  his  bosom 
the  girl  of  his  heart.  Miss  Prudence  Worthy,  as  fair  a 
maid  as  ever  raised  a  sigh  in  the  bosom  of  lusty 
youth. 

He  had  got  to  the  centre  of  the  glen  when  he 
was  roused  from  his  sweet  anticipations  by  the  well- 
remembered  voice  of  the  nymph  of  the  mountain, 
who  sat  on  the  same  inaccessible  rock,  under  the 
same  tuft  of  laurel,  where  he  had  first  seen  her,  with 
an  eagle  at  her  side. 

"  Shearjashub  I "  cried  she,  in  a  voice  which  made 
the  echoes  of  the  rocks  mad  with  ecstasy,  —  "  Shear- 
jashub! thou  hast  done  well,  and  deserved  nobly  of 
thy  country.  The  thought  of  that  is,  in  itself,  a  glori- 
ous reward  for  toil,  danger,  and  sutfering.  But  thou 
shalt  have  one  as  dear,  if  not  dearer  than  even  this. 
Look,  where  it  comes." 

Shearjashub  looked,  and  beheld  afar  off  a  figure  all 
in  white  coming  towards  him,  at  the  entrance  of  the 
glen.  It  approached  nearer,  and  it  w^as  a  woman  ; 
nearer  yet,  and  it  was  a  young  woman ;  still  nearer, 
and  Shearjashub  rushed  towards  it,  and  kissed  its 
blushing  cheek.  It  was  the  girl  of  his  heart.  Miss 
Prudence  Worthy. 

"  This  is  thy  other  blessing,"  exclaimed  the  moun- 
tain nymph,  the  sight  of  whom  made  Miss  Prudence 
a  little  jealous ;  "  a  richer  reward  for  noble  exertions 
than  a  virtuous  woman  I  know  not  of.  Live  free,  live 
righteously,  and  then   thou  wilt  be  happy.      I  shall 


THE  NYMPH  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN.        299 

be  with  thee,  an  invisible  witness,  an  invisible  pro- 
tector ;  but,  in  the  mean  while,  should  the  spirit  of  the 
people  ever  flag,  and  their  hearts  fail  them  in  time  of 
peril,  go  forth  among  them  as  thou  didst  before,  and 
rouse  them  with  thy  pipe  and  thy  music.  Farewell, 
and  be  happy !  " 

The  nymph  disappeared,  and  the  brief  jealous  pang 
felt  by  Miss  Prudence  melted  away  in  measureless  con- 
fidence and  love.  The  tune  of  the  mountain  nymph 
was  played  over  and  over  again  at  Shearjashub's 
wedding,  and  became  known  ever  afterwards  by  the 
name  of  Yankee  Doodle. 


JONATHAN'S  YISIT 


THE     CELESTIAL     EMPIRE, 


JONATHAN'S   YISIT 


THE      CELESTIAL      EMPIRE. 


Somewhere  about  the  year  1783,  Jonathan,  a  young 
fellow  who  lived  away  down  East,  took  it  into  his 
head  to  make  a  voyage  to  Canton.  Accordingly,  he 
fitted  out  his  sloop,  a  tarnation  clever  vessel  of  about 
eighty  tons,  and,  taking  a  crazy  old  compass  for  his 
guide,  his  two  cousins  (one  a  lad  about  sixteen)  and 
a  great  Newfoundland  dog  for  his  crew,  and  a  couple 
of  rusty  Revolutionary  swords  for  an  armament,  boldly 
set  forth  on  a  voyage  to  the  Celestial  Empire. 

Jonathan  was  a  mighty  cute  lad,  and  had  read  a 
little  or  so  about  the  great  devotion  of  the  Chinese  to 
the  herb  called  ginseng,  which  every-body  knows  is  a 
remedy  for  all  things.  He  happened  one  day  to  hear 
an  Indian  doctor  give  it  as  his  opinion,  that  a  certain 
plant  which  grew  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Jonathan's 
birthplace  was  very  much  like  the  famous  Chinese 
panacea,  as  he  had  seen  it  described.  He  took  a  hint 
from  this,  and  rather  guessed  he  would  carry  a  good 
parcel  along  with  him,  on  speculation.  Accordingly, 
he  gathered  a  few  hundred  pounds,  which  he  dried. 


304  Jonathan's  visit  to 

and  stowed  away  in  one  of  his  lockers  under  the  cabin 
floor. 

Providence,  which  seems  to  take  special  care  of  such 
droll  fellows  as  Jonathan,  who  calculate  pretty  con- 
siderably on  their  native  energies,  blessed  him  with 
fair  winds  and  good  weather ;  his  old  compass  behaved 
to  admiration  ;  his  old  chart,  which  had  been  torn  into 
fifty  thousand  pieces  and  pasted  on  a  bit  of  tarpaul- 
ing,  proved  an  infallible  guide  ;  and,  somehow  or  other, 
he  could  not  exactly  tell  how,  he  plumped  his  sloop 
right  into  Table  Bay,  just  as  if  the  old  fellow  had 
been  there  a  hundred  times  before. 

The  Dutch  harbour-master  was  sitting  under  his 
hat  on  his  piazza,  when  he  beheld,  through  the  smoke 
of  his  pipe,  this  strange  apparition  of  a  vessel  scudding 
like  a  bird  into  the  bay.  He  took  it  for  the  famous 
Flying  Dutchman,  and  such  was  his  trepidation,  that 
he  stuck  his  pipe  into  his  button-hole  without  knock- 
ing out  the  ashes,  whereby  he  burned  a  hole  in  his 
waistcoat.  When  Jonathan  rounded  to,  and  came  to 
anchor,  the  harbour-master  ventured  to  go  on  board 
to  get  information  concerning  this  strange  little  bark. 
He  could  talk  English,  Dutch  fashion,  for  indeed  he 
had  been  promoted  to  the  office  on  account  of  his 
skill  in  languages. 

"  Where  did  you  gome  from,  mynheer  ?  "  quoth  he. 

"  Right  off  the  reel  from  old  Salem,  I  guess,"  re- 
plied Jonathan. 

"Old  Salem  —  whereabout  is  dat  den?  I  ton't 
know  any  sich  blashe  about  here." 

"  I  guess  not.     What's  your  name,  squire  ?  " 

"  Hans  Ollenbockenoffenhaffengraphensteiner  ish 
my  name." 


THE    CELESTIAL   EMPIRE.  305 

"  Whew !  why,  it's  as  long  as  a  pumpkin  vine  — 
now  a'n't  it  ?  " 

"  But  whereabout  ish  dish  blashe  you  speague  of?" 
reiterated  the  harbour-master. 

"  Oh,  it's  some  way  ofT —  about  six  or  eight  thou- 
sand miles  down  West  there." 

"  Six  tousand  duyvels ! "  muttered  Hans  with  the 
long  name.  "  Do  you  tink  I  vill  pelieve  such  a  cog 
and  pull  shtory  as  dat,  mynheer  ?  " 

"  If  you  don't  believe  me,  ask  my  two  cousins  there 
—  and,  if  you  don't  believe  them,  ask  my  dog.  I  tell 
you  I  come  right  straight  from  old  Salem,  in  the  United 
States  of  Amerrykey." 

"  United  Shtaites  of  vat  ?  1  never  heart  of  any 
United  Shtaites  but  de  Shtaites  of  Hollant." 

'•  Ah  —  I  suppose  not  —  they've  jist  been  christened. 
I  s'pose,  now,  likely  you've  never  heard  of  the  New 
World  neither,  have  you,  mister  —  what's  your 
name  ?  " 

"  Hans  OllenbockenofFenhaffengraphensteiner  I 
tolt  you  zo  pefore." 

"  Maybe  you'll  have  to  tell  me  again  before  I  know 
it  by  heart,  I  calculate.  But  did  you  never  hear  of 
the  New  World,  squire  ?  " 

"  Not  I  —  ant  if  I  hat,  I  vouldn't  hafe  pelieved  it. 
Tare  ish  no  new  worlt  zinze  de  tiscovery  of  de  Cabe 
of  Goot  Hoop  dat  I  know.  Put,  gome  along,  you 
must  CO  vid  me  to  de  gubernador." 

Jonathan  puzzled  the  governor  about  as  much  as 
he  had  done  the  harbour-master.  But  his  papers  were 
all  fair  and  above  board,  and  the  governor  had  heard 
not  only  of  the  New  World  but  of  the  United  States 
of   Amerrykey,    as    Jonathan    called    them.     Accord- 

20 


306 


ingly,  he  was  permitted  to  enjoy  all  the  privileges  of 
the  port. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  curiosity  and  wonder  ex- 
cited by  the  vessel  among  the  people  at  the  Cape. 
That  she  should  have  made  a  voyage  of  so  many 
thousand  miles  with  such  a  crew  and  such  an  outfit 
was.  in  their  opinion,  little  less  than  miraculous,  and 
the  worthy  governor  could  only  account  for  it  by  the 
aid  of  witchcraft,  which  he  had  somewhere  heard 
abounded  in  the  New  World.  Jonathan  was  the 
greatest  man,  and  his  dog  the  greatest  dog,  at  the  Cape. 
He  dined  with  the  governor  and  the  burgomasters, 
cracked  his  jokes  with  their  wives  and  daughters, 
danced  with  the  Hottentots,  and  might  have  married 
a  Dutch  damsel  of  five  hundred  weight  and  five  thou- 
sand ducats  a  year,  provided  he  would  have  given  up 
old  Salem  for  ever. 

After  partaking  of  the  hospitalities  of  the  Cape  a 
few  days,  Jonathan  began  to  be  in  a  hurry  to  prose- 
cute his  voyage.  He  knew  the  value  of  time  as  well 
as  of  money.  On  the  sixth  day  he  accordingly  set 
sail  amid  the  acclamations  of  the  inhabitants,  taking 
with  him  a  hippopotamus,  an  orang-outang,  and  six 
ring-tailed  monkeys,  all  of  which  he  had  bought  on 
speculation.  One  of  his  cousins  had,  however,  been 
so  smitten  with  the  country  about  the  Cape,  or  with 
the  charms  of  a  little  Dutch  maiden,  that  he  deter- 
mined to  stay  behind,  marry,  and  improve  the  inhabi- 
tants—  on  speculation.  A  Dutch  sailor  offered  to 
supply  his  place,  but  Jonathan  declined,  saying  he 
guessed  his  other  cousin  and  the  Newfoundland  dog, 
who  was  a  pretty  particular  cute  critter,  could  sail  his 
sloop  quite  round  the  world  and  back  again. 


THE    CELESTIAL   EMPIRE.  307 

Not  much  of  interest  occurred  during  the  voyage 
until  he  arrived  at  Macao,  where  he  excited  the  same 
astonishment,  underwent  the  same  scrutiny,  returned 
the  same  satisfactory  answers,  and  came  off  as  trium- 
phantly as  he  did  at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.  While 
here,  he  saw  everything,  inquired  about  everything, 
and  went  everywhere.  Among  other  adventures,  he 
one  day  accompanied  his  cousin  in  a  fishing-boat,  to 
see  if  they  fished  as  the  people  did  on  the  banks  of 
Newfoundland.  Unfortunately,  a  violent  storm  came 
on ;  some  of  the  boats  were  lost  and  their  crews 
drowned.  The  survivors  went  and  offered  up  some 
of  their  paddles  at  the  great  temple  of  Neang-ma-ko. 
Those  that  were  able  added  some  matches  and  gilt 
paper.  At  Macao,  it  occurred  to  Jonathan's  other 
cousin  that  he  might  make  a  speculation  by  curing 
the  fish  after  the  manner  of  mackerel :  so  he  deter- 
mined to  stay  there.  Jonathan  did  not  much  like 
this,  but  he  said,  "  Never  mind,  I  partly  guess  I  can 
do  without  him." 

Jonathan  had  now  no  one  but  his  Newfoundland 
dog  to  assist  in  the  navigation  of  his  sloop.  But  he 
thought  to  himself  that  his  voyage  was  almost  at  an 
end,  and,  at  all  events,  if  he  hired  any  of  the  Macao 
people,  they  would  be  offering  up  matches  and  gilt 
paper  to  Neang-ma-ko,  instead  of  minding  their  busi- 
(ness.  So  he  set  sail  for  Canton,  the  Chinese  prognos- 
ticating he  would  go  to  the  bottom,  because*  he  did 
not  make  an  offering  to  Neang-ma-ko,  and  the  Portu- 
guese prophesying  that  he  would  go  to  the  devil,  be- 
cause he  did  not  pay  his  devoirs  to  the  Virgin. 

At  Lin-tin  he  was  taken  for  a  smuggler  of  opium 
by  some,  and  for  a  magician  by  others,  when  they  saw 


308  JONATHAN'S    VISIT   TO 

his  vessel,  heard  where  he  hailed  from,  and  became 
convinced  that  his  whole  crew  consisted  of  a  New- 
foundland doof.  The  commander  of  the  fleet  of 
ships  of  war  stationed  at  Lin-tin,  to  prevent  the 
smuggling  of  opium  into  the  Celestial  Empire,  seized 
the  sloop,  and  devoted  its  brave  commander  to  the 
indignation  of  the  mighty  emperor,  who  is  brother  to 
the  sun  and  moon.  Hereupon  Jonathan  bethought 
himself  of  a  piece  of  the  herb  he  had  brought  with 
him  and  had  in  his  pocket.  "  It  is  a  mighty  good 
chance,"  thought  he,  "  to  try  if  it's  the  identical  thing." 
Accordingly,  he  took  a  convenient  opportunity  of  ])re- 
senting  to  the  valiant  commander  a  bit  about  as  big 
as  his  finger.  The  admiral,  whose  name  was  Tizzy- 
Wizzy-Twang-Lang,  stared  at  him  at  first  with  aston- 
ishment, then  at  the  present  with  almost  dismay,  and, 
thrusting  it  into  his  pocket,  immediately  caused  it  to 
be  proclaimed  that  the  "  foreign  barbarian "  was  in- 
nocent of  the  crime,  or  the  intention,  of  smuggling 
opium,  and  might  go  anywhere  he  pleased.  Tizzy- 
Wizzy-Twang-Lang  then  sat  down  and  wrote  a  de- 
spatch to  the  Governor  of  Canton,  stating  that  he  had 
routed  the  "  foreign  barbarians,"  destroyed  their  ileet, 
and  thrown  all  their  opium  overboard.  After  which 
he  shut  himself  up  in  his  cabin,  and  took  a  morsel  of 
the  treasure  Jonathan  had  presented  him,  about  as 
large  as  the  head  of  a  pin.  It  is  astonishing  how 
much  better  he  felt  afterwards. 

In  the  mean  w^hile  Jonathan  had  set  sail,  and  was 
ploughing  his  way  towards  Canton,  with  a  fair  wind 
and  a  good  prospect  of  making  a  great  speculation, 
for  he  had  ascertained  to  a  certainty  that  the  article 
he  had  brought  with  him  was  the  real  ginseng,  which 


THE   CELESTIAL   EMPIRE.  309 

was  worth  five  times  its  weight  in  gold.  He  went 
ashore  at  the  village  of  Ho-tun,  where  he  saw  the 
people  catching  wild  ducks  and  geese,  w^hich  they 
fatten  by  feeding  in  the  dark.  "  That's  a  good  hint," 
said  Jonathan,  shutting  one  eye,  "  and  I'll  tell  the 
folks  at  old  Salem."  While  he  was  walking  about, 
looking  into  everything,  he  was  unexpectedly  saluted 
by  a  shower  of  stones  from  a  parcel  of  children  with 
their  hair  sticking  up  behind  like  two  horns.  Jonathan 
thought  this  tarnation  ungenteel,  but  he  prudently 
suppressed  his  anger,  considering  he  was  in  a  strange 
country,  and  was  come  to  try  his  fortune. 

"  May  I  be  buttered,"  quoth  Jonathan,  as  he  ap- 
proached Canton,  and  saw  the  countless  boats  —  "may 
I  be  buttered,  if  here  isn't  a  city  all  afloat.  This  beats 
all  nater ! " 

And,  sure  enough,  here  was  a  scene  that  might  have 
made  one  of  our  Indians  wonder.  The  whole  world 
seemed  on  the  water.  Junks  with  two  eyes  staring  at 
the  bows,  canal-boats,  flow^er-boats,  pleasure-boats, 
and  boats  of  all  sizes  and  descriptions,  filled  with  all 
sorts  of  people,  lay  moored  in  regular  streets,  or  were 
moving  about  to  and  fro  in  every  direction,  painted  in 
all  the  colours  of  the  rainbow,  and  ornamented  with 
gold  leaf  and  grinning  monsters  having  no  prototypes 
in  nature,  or  anywhere  else  but  in  the  grotesque  imagi- 
nation of  the  artists  of  the  Celestial  Empire. 

The  busy  activity  of  some  of  these  boats  was  sin- 
gularly contrasted  with  the  luxurious  ease  of  others, 
in  which  might  be  seen  a  couple  of  Chinese  dandies 
reclining  on  mats  and  resting  their  heads  on  bamboo 
pillows,  with  pipes  in  their  mouths,  either  listlessly 
contemplating  the  scene  before  them,  or  gazing  with 


310  Jonathan's  visit  to 

lack-lustre  eye  on  the  picture  of  some  favourite  beauty 
with  pencilled  eyebrows,  nails  like  a  tiger,  and  feet 
almost  invisible.  Others  were  performing  the  cere- 
mony of  chin-chin-joss,  which  consists  in  throwing 
bits  of  burning  paper  into  the  water,  while  the  din 
of  innumerable  gongs  contributed  to  the  scene  a 
species  of  music  that  made  honest  Jonathan  stop  his 
ears  in  reverential  dismay. 

When  our  adventurer  moored  his  sloop  at  Wham- 
poa,  in  the  midst  of  a  fleet  of  vast  ships  of  almost  all 
the  nations  of  Europe,  they  did  not  know  what  to 
make  of  her.  All  he  could  say  failed  in  convincing 
them  that  he  had  come  from  such  a  long  distance,  in 
such  a  vessel,  navigated  by  such  a  crew.  Besides, 
what  could  have  brought  him  to  Canton  ?  He  had 
neither  money  to  purchase,  nor  cargo  to  exchange  for, 
Chinese  commodities,  except  it  might  be  his  river- 
horse,  his  orang-outang,  and  his  monkeys. 

Jonathan  kept  his  own  secret.  He  had  heard  that 
the  Chinese  were  as  sharp  as  "  the  leetle  end  of  nothing 
whittled  down,"  and  determined  to  be  as  keen  as  the 
best  of  them.  Accordingly,  nothing  could  be  got  out 
of  him,  except  that  he  had  come  on  his  own  bottom, 
and  meant  to  turn  a  penny  one  way  or  another.  He 
said  nothing  about  his  ginseng,  which  he  had,  as  I 
before  stated,  stowed  away  in  a  secret  locker. 

The  story  of  the  strange  man  and  the  strange  vessel 
that  had  been  navigated  from  the  New  World  by  a 
man  and  a  dog  made  a  great  noise,  and  thousands 
flocked  to  see  them.  The  gentleman  who  officiated  as 
American  consul,  without,  however,  having  a  regular 
appointment,  behaved  in  the  most  kind  and  friendly 
manner  to  Jonathan,  and  introduced  him  to  a  hong, 


THE    CELESTIAL   EMPIRE.  311 

or,  as  our  hero  called  him,  a  hung^  merchant,  who 
undertook  to  do  his  business  for  him,  that  is,  if  he  had 
any  to  do,  which  seemed  rather  doubtful. 

"  I  chin-chin  you,"  said  Fat-qua,  the  hong-man. 

"  You  don't  now,  do  you  ?"  quoth  Jonathan.  "  Well, 
then,  I  chin-chin  you,  and  so  we  are  even,  I  guess." 

Fat-qua  was  very  anxious  to  know  all  about  Jona- 
than's business ;  but  the  Chinese  were  such  plaguy 
slippery  fellows,  that  he  was  afraid  to  trust  him  with 
his  secret.  He  therefore,  very  gravely,  and  wdth  infi- 
nite simplicity,  commended  to  him  his  cargo  of  live 
stock,  begging  that  he  would  dispose  of  them  to  the 
best  advantage  and  invest  the  proceeds  in  a  lading  of 
notions.  Fat-qua  did  not  know  whether  to  laugh  or 
be  angry  —  however,  he  concluded  by  laughing  and 
promising  to  do  his  best. 

The  trifle  which  Jonathan  brought  with  him  had 
been  all  expended  in  maintaining  himself  and  his 
dog,  and  Fat-qua  did  not  feel  inclined  to  advance  any 
money  on  the  security  of  his  odd  wares.  This  being 
the  case,  Jonathan  one  day  brought  a  pound  or  two 
of  his  ginseng,  and  asked  him,  carelessly,  what  it 
might  likely  be  worth  in  these  parts. 

"  Hi  yah  I  "  exclaimed  the  hong  merchant  in  aston- 
ishment.    "  No  have  got  some  more  of  he  —  hi  yah  I  " 

"Some  small  matter  —  not  much,"  said  Jonathan, 
who  was  of  opinion  that  if  he  displayed  the  whole 
parcel  at  once  it  might  lower  the  price,  and  injure  his 
speculation. 

Fat-qua  disposed  of  the  two  pounds  of  ginseng  for 
a  thumping  sum,  which  Jonathan  pocketed  in  less  than 
no  time,  and  chuckled  in  his  sleeve,  as  he  thought  of 
the  means  to  get  rid  of  the  whole  at  the  same  rate. 


01  Q 


A  day  or  two  after,  he  delivered  the  hong  merchant  a 
few  pounds  more,  which  he  said  he  had  accidentally 
found  in  a  place  where  he  had  stowed  it  away  and 
forgotten  it. 

"Hi  yah!  Missee  Joe  Notting,  I  chin-chin  you." 
And  he  began  to  have  a  great  respect  for  IVIissee  Joe 
Notting. 

In  this  way,  by  degrees,  did  friend  Jonathan  bring 
forth  his  hoard  of  hidden  treasure,  till  it  was  all  dis- 
posed of,  and  he  found  himself  in  possession  of  almost 
half  a  million  of  dollars;  for,  it  is  to  be  recollected, 
this  happened  long  before  the  value  of  ginseng  was 
brought  down  to  almost  nothing,  by  the  large  quanti- 
ties carried  to  China  in  consequence  of  the  successful 
venture  of  Jonathan. 

Every  time  he  produced  a  new  lot,  he  declared  it 
was  all  he  had  left,  and,  consequently,  to  the  last 
moment,  the  price  was  kept  up.  Fat-qua  began  to 
believe  that  Joe  Notting  had  discovered  some  hidden 
place  where  it  grew,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Canton, 
or  that  he  dealt  with  the  prince  of  darkness.  He 
accordingly  caused  him  to  be  watched,  but  our  hero 
was  too  wide-awake  for  the  hong  merchant. 

"  Hi  yah!  INIissee  Joe  Notting  —  some  yet  more  — 
when  you  shall  think  shall  you  no  more  have  —  hey  ? 
Every  day  here  come  you  —  say  the  last  is  he  —  hi 
yah  I     I  think  no  last  come  for  ever." 

"  I  ha'n't  another  stick  to  save  my  gizzard,"  said 
Jonathan ;  and,  this  time,  he  spoke  like  a  man  of 
honour.  He  had  at  last  sold  out  his  hoard,  with  the 
exception  of  a  small  parcel  for  presents,  and  to  use 
on  an  emergency. 

Jonathan  was  now  thinking  he  would  gather  him- 


THE   CELESTIAL   EMPIRE.  813 

self  together,  and  point  his  bowsprit  straight  towards 
home.  But  he  determined  to  see  about  him  first,  for 
he  expected  to  be  asked  a  heap  of  questions  when  he 
got  among  his  old  neighbours ;  and  not  be  able  to  tell 
them  all  about  the  Celestial  Empire  would  be  to  show 
he  had  little  or  no  gumption. 

He  accordingly  visited  the  famous  flower-garden 
of  Fa-Tee,  where  he  saw  a  fine  collection  of  the  most 
beautiful  flowers,  and  roses  of  all  colours.  Returning, 
he  passed  through  the  suburb  of  Ho-Nam,  where  he 
was  called  Fan-kwei,  which  means  "foreign  devil," 
and  pelted  handsomely  with  stones,  according  to  the 
hospitable  custom  of  the  inhabitants. 

Jonathan  w^as  now  so  rich,  that  he  felt  himself  a 
different  man  from  what  he  was  when  the  boys  stoned 
him  at  the  village  of  Ho-tun.  He  had,  moreover, 
seen  the  bamboo  so  liberally  employed  on  the  backs 
of  the  Chinese  by  their  own  ofHcers  and  magistrates, 
that  he  thought  he  might  make  use  himself  of  this 
universal  panacea  for  all  offences  in  the  Celestial 
Empire.  Accordingly,  he  sallied  forth  among  these 
inhospitable  rogues,  and  plied  his  stick  so  vigorously 
that  the  rabble  fled  before  him,  crying  out,  "  Fan- 
kwei  ! ",  and  making  motions  significant  of  cutting  off 
the  head,  as  much  as  to  say  that  would  be  his  end 
at  last.  The  reader  must  know  that  beheading  is 
considered  the  most  disgraceful  of  all  punishments 
in  the  Celestial  Empire,  where  they  do  everything 
differently  from  the  rest  of  the  world. 

A  formal  complaint  was  laid  before  the  Gan-chat- 
sze,  a  minister  of  justice  at  Canton,  against  the  Fan- 
kwei,  who  had  feloniously  bambooed  the  mob  of 
Ho-Nam.     Fat-qua,  one  of  our  hero's  securities,  was 


314  Jonathan's  visit  to 

taken  into  custody  till  his  appearance,  and  an  express 
was  sent  off  to  Pekin  to  announce  to  the  brother  of 
the  sun  and  moon  that  a  Fan-kwei  had  beaten  at 
least  two  hundred  of  his  valiant  and  invincible  sub- 
jects, who  could  not  bring  themselves  to  soil  their 
fingers  by  touching  even  the  clothes  of  a  foreign  bar- 
barian. 

Jonathan  was  soon  arrested,  and,  being  carried  be- 
fore the  illustrious  Gan-cliat-sze^  was  astonished  at 
seeing  the  infinite  mischief  lie  had  done.  There  was 
one  poor  man  who  had  had  his  eye  put  out;  another, 
his  head  fractured ;  a  third,  his  arm  broken ;  and, 
what  was  worse  than  all  this,  three  children  were  so 
disabled  that  they  could  not  stand;  —  all  by  Jona- 
than's bamboo,  which  was  about  as  thick  as  your 
finger. 

This  was  a  serious  business  for  a  Fan-kwei.  But 
his  friend  Fat-qua  whispered  in  his  ear  — 

"Hi  yah  —  INIissee  Joe  Notting — you  some  more 
have  got  of  that  grand  —  hi  yah!  You  stand  under 
me  —  hey  ?  " 

Jonathan  tipped  him  a  knowing  wink,  and  Fat-qua 
then  crept  close  to  the  ear  of  the  incorruptible  Gan- 
cJiat-sze,  and  whispered  him  in  like  manner ;  but  what 
he  said,  being  only  intended  for  the  ear  of  justice, 
must  not  be  disclosed.  The  effect,  however,  was 
miraculous;  the  Gan-cliat-sze  forthwith  started  \x\)  in 
a  mighty  passion,  and,  seizing  his  bamboo,  attacked 
the  complainants  in  the  suit  w^ith  such  wonderful 
vigour,  that  he  actually  performed  a  miracle,  and  re- 
stored every  one  of  them  to  the  use  of  their  limbs. 
After  this,  he  discharged  the  offender  with  a  caution, 
which  Fat-qua  translated  into  excellent  English ;  and 


THE    CELESTIAL    EMPIRE.  315 

the  next  day  Jonathan  sent  him,  by  the  hands  of  the 
same  discreet  friend,  a  pound  of  ginseng. 

"  Hi  yah!  Missee  Joe  —  more  some  yet,  hey?  Believe 
him  make  him  as  him  go  along.  Hi  yah !  Chin-chin 
you,  Missee  Joe  Notting." 

Fat-qua  was  determined  to  signalize  this  triumph 
of  Chinese  justice  over  prejudice  against  foreigners 
by  a  great  feast  of  bears'  claws,  birds'  nests,  and  all 
the  delicacies  of  the  East.  He  therefore  invited  a 
number  of  the  Fan-kweis  about  the  factory  to  meet 
Jonathan  at  his  country-seat,  near  the  gardens  of  Fa- 
Tee,  and  they  had  a  jolly  time  of  it.  Our  hero  was 
complimented  with  a  pair  of  chopsticks  of  the  most 
elegant  construction  and  materials,  which  he  managed 
with  such  skill,  that,  by  the  time  the  dinner  was  over, 
he  was  wellnigh  starved  to  death. 

The  "  hung  merchant ",  Fat-qua,  was  a  jolly  little 
fellow,  "  about  knee-high  to  a  toad,"  as  Jonathan 
used  to  say,  and  fond  of  a  good  glass  of  wine.  He 
plied  his  guests  pretty  neatly,  until  they  began  to  feel 
a  little  top-heavy  and  rolled  away  one  by  one  under 
rather  high  steam,  leaving  Jonathan  alone  with  his 
friend,  the  latter  fast  asleep.  Jonathan  was  by  this 
time  in  high  feather,  and  thought  this  would  be  a 
good  time  to  take  a  peep  at  the  establishment  of  his 
friend,  that  he  might  know  something  of  these  mat- 
ters when  he  got  home. 

He  arose  without  disturbing  the  little  fat  gentleman, 
and  proceeded  to  penetrate  into  the  interior  of  the 
house,  until  he  came  to  the  female  apartments,  in  one 
of  which  he  saw  a  young  lady  smoking,  to  whom  he 
paid  his  compliments  with  a  low  bow.  Her  pipe  was 
formed  of  slender  pieces  of  bamboo,  highly  polished. 


316  Jonathan's  visit  to 

with  a  bowl  of  silver  and  a  mouth-piece  of  amber. 
Her  hair  was  beautifully  long  and  tastefully  dressed 
with  flowers  and  gold  and  silver  bodkins,  and  the 
whole  atmosphere  of  the  room  was  perfumed  with 
jasmine  and  other  odoriferous  plants  and  shrubs.  By 
her  side  lay  a  guitar,  on  which  she  seemed  to  have 
been  playing. 

The  entrance  of  Jonathan  threw  her  into  great  con- 
fusion, and  she  uttered  several  violent  screams,  which, 
however,  brought  no  one  to  her  assistance.  The  illus- 
trious Fat-qua  was  still  sleeping  in  his  seat,  and  the 
servants  making  merry,  as  usual,  with  the  remains  of 
the  feast.  Jonathan  attempted  an  apology  for  his 
intrusion,  but  the  more  he  apologized  the  louder  the 
young  lady  shrieked.  Jonathan  wondered  what  could 
be  tlie  matter  with  her. 

"  Well,  I  never  saw  anything  like  this  growing 
among  corn  —  what's  come  over  the  gal  ?  May  I  be 
chiselled  if  I  don't  think  she's  afeard  I'll  eat  her. 
But,  why  the  dickens,  if  she's  frightened,  don't  she 
scamper  off,  that  being  the  most  nat'ral  way  of  getting 
out  of  danger  ?  "  Jonathan  did  not  know  the  feet  of 
the  screeching  damsel  were  not  more  than  two  inches 
and  a  half  long,  and  that  she  could  no  more  run  than 
fly.  They  were  what  the  Chinese  poets  call  a  couple 
of  "  golden  lilies." 

Encouraged  by  this  notion,  that  her  pretending  to 
be  frightened  was  all  sheer  affectation,  he  approached 
her  still  nearer,  took  up  the  guitar,  and  begged  her  to 
play  him  a  tune,  such  as  "  Yankee  Doodle,"  or  any- 
thing of  the  sort  that  was  pretty  easily  managed,  for 
he  did  not  much  admire  any  of  your  fine  fashionable 
whimseys.     Jonathan  was  a  plaguy  neat  kind  of  a 


THE    CELESTIAL   EMPIRE.  317 

chap  —  as  handsome  a  lad  as  might  be  seen ;  tall, 
and  straight,  with  blue  eyes,  white  forehead,  and  red 
cheeks,  a  little  rusted,  to  be  sure,  with  the  voyage. 

The  pretty  creature  with  the  little  feet,  whose  name 
was  Shangtshee,  ventured  at  last  to  look  at  this  im- 
pudent intruder,  and,  sooth  to  say,  he  did  not  appear 
so  terrible  at  the  second  glance  as  at  the  first.  She 
smiled,  and  put  out  one  small  foot  for  Jonathan  to 
admire.  She  then  took  her  guitar,  and  played  him 
a  tune  —  it  was  not  "  Yankee  Doodle  "  to  be  sure,  but 
it  rather  pleased  Jonathan,  for  he  declared  it  beat  all, 
he'd  be  switched  if  it  didn't.  Shangtshee  seemed  to 
understand  the  compliment,  for  she  smiled,  and  put 
out  her  other  golden  lily,  I  suppose  to  show  Jonathan 
she  had  a  pair  of  them.  Jonathan  admired  the  pipe ; 
she  handed  it  to  him,  he  put  it  to  his  lips,  and,  on 
receiving  it  again,  she  put  it  to  her  lips,  which  our 
hero  finally  concluded  came  as  near  to  kissing  as  two- 
pence to  a  groat. 

"  How  the  critter  blushes,"  thought  Jonathan.  He 
did  not  know  she  was  painted  half  an  inch  thick,  after 
the  fashion  of  the  Chinese  ladies.  As  they  sat  thus 
exchanging  pleasant  little  civilities,  which,  innocent 
as  they  were,  endangered  both  their  lives,  they  were 
alarmed  —  at  least  the  lady  was,  (for  Jonathan  had 
never  particularly  studied  Chinese  customs)  —  by  the 
sound  of  a  guitar  in  the  garden.  It  approached,  and, 
in  a  few  minutes,  seemed  directly  under  the  window 
of  the  apartment.  Shangtshee  appeared  greatly  agi- 
tated, and  begged  Jonathan,  by  signs,  to  depart,  the 
way  he  came.  But  Jonathan  had  no  notion  of  being 
scared  by  a  tune,  and  declined  to  budge  an  inch.  It 
was  a  nice  tune,  and  he  didn't  much  mind  if  he  heard 
another  just  like  it. 


CIS  Jonathan's  visit  to 

Presently  the  music  ceased,  and  all  at  once  the 
young  Shangtshee  screamed  a  scream  almost  as  loud 
as  the  former  ones.  "  What  can  have  got  into  the 
curious  varmint,  now,  I  wonder?"  quoth  Jonathan. 
He  little  suspected  she  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
face  of  her  lover  through  the  blinds.  This  young  man 
was  called  Yu-min-hoo,  which  signifies  featliered,  be- 
cause he  was  a  great  poet,  and  took  such  high  flights 
that  his  meaning  was  sometimes  quite  out  of  sight.  He 
always  carried  an  ink-bottle  suspended  to  his  button, 
a  bamboo  pen  stuck  behind  his  ear,  and  a  book  under 
his  arm,  in  which  he  wrote  down  his  thoughts,  that  none 
might  escape  him.  He  made  verses  upon  Shangtshee, 
in  which  he  compared  her  to  a  dish  of  bears'  claws, 
since  her  nails  were  at  least  six  inches  long,  and  she 
was  a  delicacy  which  the  epicure  might  admire  every 
day  in  the  year.  It  was  this  sentiment  which  he  had 
set  to  music,  and  sung  on  this  eventful  evening  under 
the  window  of  his  mistress. 

Yu-min-hoo  was  petrified  when  he  saw  his  Shangt- 
shee sitting  so  cosily  by  the  side  of  a  Fan-kwei,  which, 
as  I  said  before,  means  foreign  devil.  His  indignation 
was  terrible,  and  his  jealousy  prodigious.  He  had 
thoughts  of  sitting  down  by  the  light  of  the  moon 
and  writing  a  furious  ode,  consigning  the  Fan-kwei 
to  all  the  Chinese  devils,  which  are  the  ugliest  in  the 
world.  Even  their  gods  are  monsters;  what,  then, 
must  the  others  be  ?  On  second  thoughts,  however, 
Yu-min-hoo  restrained  his  muse,  and  in  a  moment  or 
two  they  heard  the  clatter  of  his  wooden  shoes  grad- 
ually receding.  Shangtshee  again  entreated  with  her 
eyes,  her  hands,  nay,  her  very  feet,  that  Jonathan  would 
make  himself  scarce.     The  tears  ran  down  her  cheeks, 


THE    CELESTIAL   EMPIRE.  319 

and,  like  torrents  of  rain,  wore  deep  channels  in  them 
that  ahnost  spoiled  their  beauty. 

Jonathan  tried  all  he  could  to  comfort  her,  when, — 
(imagine  his  surprise  and  indignation  at  her  base  in- 
gratitude I)  —  he  was  greeted  with  a  scratch  of  those 
long  nails  that  constitute  the  most  unequivocal  claim 
of  a  Chinese  lady  to  rank.  It  was  a  scratch  so  em- 
phatic and  well  directed,  that  every  nail,  and  most 
especially  the  little  finger  nail,  left  its  mark  on  his 
cheek,  and  it  was  preceded  and  followed  by  a  scream 
of  the  highest  pretensions. 

Our  hero  was  astounded  at  this  salutation.  He  had 
heard  of  love-taps,  but  never  of  such  as  these.  But 
he  soon  understood  the  whole  squinting  of  the  busi- 
ness as  slick  as  a  whistle,  when  he  saw  little  Fat-qua 
standing  before  him,  breathing  fire,  and  looking  fury 
with  his  dark  sharp-cornered  eyes. 

"Hi  yah!  Missee  Joe  Notting  —  s'pose  tink  you 
daughter  my  one  flower-woman  —  hey?" 

Jonathan  endeavoured  to  convince  Fat-qua  that 
there  was  not  the  least  harm  in  sitting  by  the  side  of 
a  young  woman  in  a  civil  way  —  that  it  was  done  in 
his  country  every  day  in  the  year,  particularly  on  Sun- 
days —  and  that  the  women  there  were  quite  as  good 
as  in  China,  though  they  did  not  wear  wooden  shoes 
and  nails  six  inches  long. 

Fat-qua  was  wroth  at  this  indecorous  comparison 
of  the  Fan-kwei  ladies  with  those  of  the  Celestial 
Empire,  and  ordered  his  servants  to  seize  Jonathan, 
as  a  violator  of  Chinese  etiquette,  and  a  calumniator 
of  wooden  shoes  and  long  nails.  He  determined,  in 
the  bitterness  of  his  heart,  to  have  him  immediately 
before  the  worshipful  Gan-c7iat-sze,  who  would  not  fail 
to  squeeze  some  of  his  dollars  out  of  him. 


320  Jonathan's  visit  to 

But  further  reflection  induced  him  to  abandon  this 
course.  He  recollected,  when  the  fumes  of  the  wine 
were  somewhat  dissipated,  that  both  himself  and  his 
daughter  would  be  disgraced  and  dishonoured  if  it 
were  publicly  known  that  she  had  been  in  company 
with  a  Fan-kwei,  a  stain  of  the  deepest  dye,  according 
to  the  statutes  of  the  Celestial  Empire,  in  any  but 
the  common  women.  The  only  way,  therefore,  was 
to  make  the  best  of  a  bad  business.  Accordingly,  he 
bribed  his  servants  to  secrecy  —  married  his  daughter 
to  the  poet — and  swore  never  to  invite  another  Missee 
Joe  Notting  to  dine  with  him  so  long  as  there  was  a 
woman  in  his  house.  He  had  never,  he  said,  met  with 
a  fellow  of  this  c/io/)  before. 

Various  were  the  other  adventures  of  our  hero, 
which  are  recorded  in  the  annals  of  the  Celestial  Em- 
pire, where  he  figures  as  "  The  Great  Fan-kwei,  Joe 
Notting."  My  limits  will  not  suffice  to  particularize 
them  all,  else  would  I  relate  how  he  was  fined  a  thou- 
sand dollars  by  his  old  friend,  the  Gan-cJiat-sze^  for 
bambooing  a  valiant  sentinel  who  refused  to  let  him 
enter  the  gates  of  Canton  without  a  bribe ;  and  how 
his  river-horse,  being  tired  of  confinement,  took  an 
opportunity  to  jump  overboard,  whereby  he  upset  a 
boat,  and  came  nigh  drowning  the  passengers.  This 
cost  him  three  thousand  dollars  more.  His  next  ad- 
venture was  picking  up  the  body  of  a  drowned  man 
in  the  river  one  evening,  in  passing  between  his  sloop 
and  the  shore,  whose  murder  he  was  found  guilty  of 
before  the  Gan-chat-sze,  who  kindly  let  him  off"  for  ten 
thousand  dollars,  advising  him,  at  the  same  time, 
through  the  hong  merchant.  Fat-qua,  to  take  the 
earliest  opportunity  of  making  himself  invisible  within 
the  precincts  of  the  Celestial  Empire. 


THE   CELESTIAL   EMPIRE.  321 

"  I  partly  guess  I'll  take  his  advice,  and  pull  up 
stakes,"  said  Jonathan.  "  I  never  saw  such  a  tarnal 
place.  It  beats  everything,  I  swow.  Why,  Squire 
Fat-qua,  I'll  tell  you  what  —  if  you'll  only  come  to 
our  parts,  you  may  go  jist  where  you  please  —  do  jist 
as  you  please  —  and  talk  to  the  gals  as  much  as  you 
please :  I'll  be  choked  if  it  isn't  true,  by  the  living 
hokey." 

"  Hi  yah !  Missee  Joe  Notting,"  replied  Fat-qua, 
"  she  must  be  some  very  fine  place,  dat  Merrykey." 

"  There  you  are  right,  squire.  But,  good-by  ;  I  con- 
clude it's  best  to  cut  stick.  They're  plaguy  slippery 
fellows  here :  if  they  a'n't,  may  I  be  licked  by  a  chap 
under  size." 

Jonathan  received  the  remainder  of  his  money, 
which  he  was  then  earnestly  advised  to  invest  in  bills, 
and  at  the  same  to  sell  his  vessel,  and  embark  for 
home  in  a  safer  conveyance. 

"  D'ye  think  I'm  a  fellow  of  no  more  gumption  than 
that  ?  "  said  he.  "  I'll  be  darned  if  there's  a  tighter, 
safer  thing  than  my  sloop  ever  sailed  across  the  salt 
sea;  and,  as  for  your  paper-money,  I've  had  enough 
of  that  in  my  own  country  in  my  time." 

He  declined  shipping  a  crew,  for  he  said  he  must 
trust,  in  that  case,  to  strangers ;  and  he  thought  to 
himself  that  he  could  easily  induce  his  two  cousins 
to  go  home  with  him,  now  he  was  so  rich.  It  hap- 
pened as  he  had  anticipated:  both  gladly  rejoined 
him,  each  having  failed  in  his  speculation.  The  Dutch- 
men at  the  Cape  prohibited  the  one  from  using  a 
machine  he  had  invented  for  saving  labour,  lest  it 
might  lower  the  price  of  their  negroes ;  and  the  Portu- 
guese and  Chinese  refused  to  eat  the  fish  of  the  other, 

21 


ETC. 


because  he  neither  crossed  himself  before  the  picture 
of  the  Virgin,  nor  burned  gilt  paper  to  the  image  of 
Neang-ma-ko. 

A  prosperous  voyage  ended  in  Jonathan's  happy 
return  to  Salem,  where  he  became  a  great  man,  even 
to  the  extent  of  being  yclept  honourable.  He  lived 
long  and  happily,  and  his  chief  boast  to  the  end  of  his 
life  was,  that  he  had  been  the  first  of  his  countrymen 
to  visit  the  Celestial  Empire,  and  the  only  man  that 
navigated  with  a  Newfoundland  dog  for  an  officer. 


THE     HISTORY 


UNCLE   SAM   AND   HIS   BOYS. 


THE     HISTORY 


UNCLE   SAM   AND   HIS   BOYS. 


Once  upon  a  time  there  lived,  and  lives  still,  in  a 
country  lying  far  to  the  West,  a  famous  squire,  rich 
in  lands  and  paper-money.  Report  made  him  out  to 
be  the  son  of  John  Bull,  who,  as  every  one  knows,  has 
children  in  all  parts  of  the  world.  But,  if  the  truth 
were  told,  I  believe  he  had  a  great  many  fathers, 
though  his  mother  was  a  very  honest  woman,  for  he 
looked  like  as  many  people  as  there  were  hairs  on  his 
chin.  But  old  Squire  Bull  had  the  credit  'of  being 
his  father,  and  truly  there  was  a  great  likeness  be- 
tween them.  Like  Bull,  he  was  somewhat  given  to 
boasting,  tippling,  fighting,  and  sailing  boats;  and 
was  apt  to  hold  his  neighbors  in  contempt,  dubbing 
them  a  pack  of  snivelling,  pitiful  rascals,  that  did  not 
dare  to  call  their  souls  their  own,  or  look  their  king 
in  the  face,  as  every  cat  had  a  right  to  do.  He  took 
after  his  father  in  another  respect ;  that  is  to  say,  no- 
body could  tell  which  he  was  most  fond  of,  making 
money  like  a  horse,  or  spending  it  like  an  ass.  But, 
for  all  this,  he  did  not  so  much  favour  John  Bull  but 


326  UNCLE   SAM   AND   HIS   BOYS. 

that  you  could  now  and  then  catch  an  expression  in 
his  face  that  put  you  in  mind  of  every-body  you  had 
ever  seen  in  the  world. 

John  Bull  had  christened  this  son  of  his  by  the 
name  of  Jonathan ;  but,  by  and  by,  when  he  became 
a  man  grown,  being  a  good  hearty  fellow,  about  half 
horse  half  alligator,  liis  friends  and  neighbors  gave 
him  the  title  of  Uncle  Sam ;  a  sure  sign  that  they 
liked  him,  for  I  never  in  my  life  knew  a  respectable 
nickname  given  to  a  scurvy  fellow.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  his  family  and  all  his  acquaintances  at  last 
came  to  call  him  nothing  but  Uncle  Sam ;  and  all  his 
beef,  pork,  and  flour,  in  fact  everything  that  belonged 
to  him,  was  marked  with  a  huge  U.  S.,  six  inches 
long. 

As  I  have  a  great  respect  for  universal  example,  1 
shall  give  him  this  name  in  the  sequel  of  my  history, 
which  I  hereby  commend  to  the  special  attention  of 
all  wise  men,  more  especially  the  wise  men  of  the 
East.  As  to  the  fools,  every  body  knows  they  are  so 
scarce  nowadays,  that  I  hereby  snap  my  fingers  at 
and  defy  them. 

I  flatter  myself  no  man  living  is  better  qualified  for 
this  piece  of  biography.  Uncle  Sam  and  I  have  been 
hand  and  glove  these  fifty  years.  Many  are  the  bouts 
we  have  had  together  when  boys;  many  the  frolics 
we  have  kicked  up  among  the  buxom  young  hussies, 
who  now  are  all  honest,  sober,  mothers  of  families; 
and  many  the  bottles  we  have  cracked  together  at 
sundry  times  and  on  divers  occasions,  during  the 
good  old  days  when,  if  a  man  did  not  choose  to  be 
merry  sometimes  himself,  he  did  not  cry  out  against 
those  who  did.     Uncle  Sam  was  a  sad  fellow  at  rac- 


UNCLE   SAM   AND   HIS   BOYS.  327 

coon-hunting,  and  a  barbecue  was  his  dehght,  until  it 
got  to  be  the  custom  to  talk  politics  and  make  long 
speeches  at  them. 

Uncle  Sam,  in  early  life,  gave  some  offence  to  his 
father,  about  going  to  the  meeting-house  instead  of 
the  church.  One  word  brought  on  another,  until  John 
Bull  at  length  took  to  beating  the  poor  fellow  into 
conformity  with  his  notions.  He  was  a  lad  of  spirit, 
that  would  put  up  with  this  from  no  man,  not  ev^en  his 
father;  and,  accordingly,  without  saying  a  word  to 
any  body,  he  packed  up  his  all  and  marched  off  into 
the  wide  world,  to  seek  his  fortune. 

As  you  may  suppose.  Uncle  Sam  had  little  to  begin 
with ;  but  he  was  a  stirring  blade,  who  did  not  mind 
trouble  at  first,  if  he  could  only  see  his  way  clear  to 
something  better  in  the  end.  He  set  himself  to  the 
business  of  clearing  and  selling  new  lands.  As  fast 
as  he  became  pretty  comfortable  on  one  farm,  he  sold 
out  at  a  profit  and  set  off  for  another;  so  that  he  was 
seldom  more  than  two  or  three  years  in  the  same 
place.  But,  for  all  this,  he  never  lost  sight  of  the  main 
chance ;  since  there  was  nothing  on  the  face  of  the 
earth  he  loved  so  dearly  as  a  bargain  or  a  profitable 
speculation.  By  good  management  and  good  luck 
he  at  last  came  to  have  a  vast  property  in  lands,  which 
he  was  every  day  adding  to,  by  buying  out  the  Indi- 
ans, or  taking  farms  for  debts  that  were  owing  him. 
In  short,  he  prospered  in  all  his  undertakings,  and 
became,  in  process  of  time,  a  great  man  among  his 
neighbours.  But,  to  my  mind,  he  was  not  above  half 
as  clever  a  fellow  as  when  he  was  poor.  Then  he 
was  a  jolly,  careless,  high-minded  dog  —  generous  as 
a   prince,  and    hospitable    as    a    Turk.     Though    he 


328  UNCLE   SAM   AND   HIS   BOYS. 

would  swear  a  little  at  times,  he  never  meant  any 
harm  by  it.  But,  as  he  got  rich,  he  aspired  to  be 
mighty  genteel ;  aped  the  manners  of  all  the  would- 
be  fashionable  stragglers  that  came  along;  never  in- 
vited any  body  to  his  house  except  to  show  off  his  new 
finery,  and  left  off  all  his  honest  old  habits  by  little 
and  little. 

The  fact  is,  he  took  to  canting,  and  turned  the  em- 
broidered side  of  his  jacket  outward,  as  a  Turk  does 
when  he  goes  to  court.  Many  people  doubted 
whether  he  was  anything  the  better  for  this  ;  and,  if  I 
must  speak  my  mind,  I  think  he  lost  more  than  he 
gained  ;  for,  as  respects  myself,  I  had  rather  a  man 
should  rip  out  and  drink  punch  a  little,  than  pick  my 
pocket  while  he  is  prating  about  brotherly  love  and 
good-will  to  all  men.  If  Uncle  Sam  is  angry  at  this, 
let  him  scratch  his  back  and  get  pleased  again. 

As  Uncle  Sam  got  rich,  and  withal  stout,  and  lusty 
as  a  young  giant,  the  neighboring  gentry,  who  called 
him  an  upstart,  and  looked  askance  at  his  prosperity, 
would  shake  their  heads  very  wisely,  and  cry  out, 
"  Ah !  poor  man,  to  be  sure  he  looks  well  and  hearty ; 
but  any  body  can  see  with  half  an  eye  he  is  not  long 
for  this  world."  And  then  they  would  sigh,  and  take 
a  pinch  of  snuff  to  the  success  of  their  prognostica- 
tions. But  it  happened,  somehow  or  other,  that  every 
attack  he  had,  and  every  rub  he  met  with,  only  served 
to  show  the  strength  of  his  constitution,  and  make  it 
still  stronger,  until  at  last  these  false  prophets  began 
to  say  to  themselves,  "  The  rogue  will  last  forever." 

Now,  I  don't  pretend  to  say  this  would  be  the  case, 
seeing  there  is  an  end  to  all  things ;  but  I  verily  be- 
lieve he  would  have  lived  to  a  happy  and  green  old 


UNCLE   SAM   AND    HIS   BOYS.  329 

age.  had  it  not  been  for  the  undutiful  behaviour  of  his 
children,  which  made  his  latter  days  one  scene  of 
trouble  and  turmoil. 

You  must  know  that,  as  soon  as  Uncle  Sam 
thought  himself  able  to  maintain  a  family  comfort- 
ably, he  got  him  a  wife,  who  proved  an  excellent 
house-keeper,  and,  in  the  course  of  years,  his  children 
amounted  to  I  am  afraid  to  say  how  many ;  all  jolly, 
strapping,  roistering  blades,  with  the  exception  of  two 
or  three,  that  were  rather  stinted  in  the  growth,  or,  as 
Uncle  Sam  used  to  say  in  joke,  "  shrunk  in  the  boil- 
ing." These  last  were  rather  conceited  and  jealous,  as 
I  suspect  most  little  people  are. 

As  fast  as  these  lads  grew  up,  Uncle  Sam  portioned 
them  off  on  his  farms,  which  they  were  to  pay  for 
when  they  were  able,  at  very  low  prices.  They  all 
turned  out  pretty  industrious  fellows,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  here  and  there  one  who  got  all  his  work  done 
by  negroes.  They  differed  in  some  respects ;  but 
there  was  a  family  likeness  among  them  —  all  took 
after  the  mother,  who  was  a  pretty  considerable  parti- 
cular talker.  One  was  a  famous  fellow  for  cod-fish- 
ing; another  a  great  hand  at  splitting  shingles;  a 
third  was  an  amateur  of  road-making  and  ditching; 
a  fourth  was  mighty  fond  of  barbecues,  taking  after 
his  father  in  that  respect;  a  fifth  dealt  largely  in 
w^oodcn  bowls  and  onions;  a  sixth  was  a  great  culti- 
vator of  rice  and  cotton;  a  seventh  was  a  pretty 
high-handed  fellow,  fond  of  a  good  horse,  and  of  an 
independent,  open-hearted  spirit:  —  and  so  on.  They 
all  lived  together  like  loving  brothers,  having  a  rich 
father  who  could  do  what  he  pleased  with  his  money 
—  that  is  to  say,  they  were  as  j(^alous  of  each  other  as 
two  cocks  running  in  the  same  yard. 


330  UNCLE   SAM   AND    HIS   BOYS. 

If  Uncle  Sam  made  a  Christmas  present  to  one,  or 
conferred  a  special  kindness  on  another,  there  was  the 
dense  to  pay  among  the  rest.  They  accused  the  old 
man  of  being  partial,  and  allowed  him  no  rest  until 
he  put  them  all  on  a  level ;  which  he  had  no  sooner 
done,  than  they,  one  and  all,  began  to  grumble  and 
find  fault,  saying  the  poor  man  was  in  his  dotage, 
only  because  he  had  not  given  each  one  a  preference 
over  his  brother.  Uncle  Sam  sometimes  said  to  him- 
self, "  Happy  is  the  man  who  has  nothing,  for  his 
children  won't  quarrel  about  his  estate." 

But  this  was  not  the  worst  of  it.  The  old  Harry 
got  into  them  about  improving  their  farms,  which 
they  all  swore  was  Uncle  Sam's  business;  he  was 
devouring  all  the  money  they  could  rake  and  scrape 
together  to  settle  for  the  lands  he  had  sold  them. 
They  said  it  was  a  sin  and  a  shame  for  him  to  make 
them  pay  everything,  seeing  they  were  his  natural- 
born  children,  entitled  to  bed,  board,  education,  and 
an  outfit.  Besides,  daddy  was  now  become  so  rich  he 
did  not  know  what  to  do  with  his  money,  and  it  was 
actually  a  kindness  to  rid  him  of  its  management  in 
his  old  age. 

Thus  these  cunning  varlets  agreed  in  the  propriety 
of  sharing  Uncle  Sam's  money,  but  they  fell  out  about 
the  manner  of  dividing  it,  like  a  parcel  of  undutiful 
rogues  as  they  were.  The  big  fellows  argued  that 
they  ought  to  share  according  to  weight,  and  insisted 
they  should  all  go  down  to  the  mill  and  be  weighed. 
But  the  little  fellows  who  had  been  "  shrunk  in  the 
boiling"  demurred  to  this,  and  swore  it  was  all  in  my 
eye,  Betty  Martin.  They  were  as  much  the  lawful 
sons  of  Uncle  Sam  as  the  best  and  biggest  of  them, 


UNCLE   SAM   AND   HIS   BOYS.  331 

and  were  determined  to  have  their  share  at  the  point 
of  the  bayonet.  There  was  one,  particularly,  who 
lived  on  an  island  about  as  big  as  my  thumb-nail,  who 
talked  like  a  giant,  and  threatened  to  dissolve  the 
family  union  and  set  up  for  himself  if  they  did  not 
treat  him  like  a  full-grown  man.  They  had  a  great 
many  hard  bouts  at  words,  and  some  of  the  neigh- 
bours feared  they  would  come  together  by  the  ears. 
But  though  they  quarrelled  like  so  many  old  women, 
like  old  women,  they  seldom  came  to  blows.  They 
had  a  sort  of  sneaking  kindness  for  one  another  at  the 
bottom,  which  always  prevented  their  proceeding  to 
extremities. 

At  the  same  time  they  were  forever  falling  out  about 
nothing,  or  some  trifle  next  to  nothing,  and  never  gave 
each  other  a  good  word  except  when  they  all  put  their 
heads  together,  as  they  often  did,  to  diddle  Uncle  Sam 
out  of  a  few  thousands  for  the  improvement  of  their 
farms.  Fortunately,  however,  for  his  pocket,  it  was 
seldom  they  could  agree  about  the  division  of  the 
spoils,  or  it  would  not  have  been  long  before  he  was 
as  poor  as  a  rat. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  the  good  man  had  no  peace  of 

his  life,  and  was  several  times  on  the  point  of  making 

over   all   his   property  to  build  meeting-houses  and 

educate  the  children  of  other  people.     Certain  it  is, 

he  had  good  reason  to  do  so,  for  these  undutiful  boys 

'left  him  no  rest  day  or  night,  on  account  of  his  money. 

Not  being  able  to  agree  to  the  plan  of  dividing  Uncle 

Sam's   surplus   income   according  to  weight,  it  was 

I  proposed  to  do  it  by  measure  ;  but  here  again  the  little 

I  fellows  that  were  "  shrunk  in  the  boiling "  made  a 

I  most  infernal  rout,  and  opposed  it  tooth   and   nail. 


, 


332  UNCLE  SAM  AND  HIS  BOYS. 

They  swore  they  were  as  good  as  the  big  fellows,  any 
day  in  the  week ;  and  they  insisted  that  the  apportion- 
ment should  be  made  according  to  merit  —  not  weight 
or  size.  All  agreed  to  this,  and  the  matter  was  just 
on  the  point  of  being  amicably  settled,  when  a  trifling 
difficulty  occurred  in  adjusting  the  scale  of  desert. 
The  roistering  barbecue  fellow  swore  he  was  equal  to 
any  man  you  could  shake  a  stick  at ;  the  splitter  of 
shingles  maintained  the  superiority  of  his  art;  the 
young  squire,  who  was  fond  of  riding  a  fine  horse  and 
doing  nothing,  declared  he  considered  himself  the  most 
of  a  gentleman  ;  the  raisers  of  rice  and  cotton  claimed 
precedence  on  the  score  of  administering  both  to  the 
back  and  stomach ;  and  the  little  fellow  that  lived  on 
his  island  put  in  his  claim  on  the  score  of  morality. 
This  would  not  do,  and  so  the  old  man  escaped  being 
plundered  that  time. 

But  these  fine  boys  had  another  iron  in  the  fire, 
which  they  heated  till  it  was  red-hot.  Quoth  one  of 
the  rascallions  —  I  believe  it  was  the  barbecue  chap  — 

"  Let  us  set  about  improving  our  farms,  and  make 
the  old  boy  pay  the  piper." 

Upon  this  scheme  they  agreed,  and  set  up  a  hurrah 
about  internal  improvement,  which  means  digging 
ditches,  pulling  up  snags,  and  making  roads  through 
the  desert. 

Upon  this  one  of  them  went  and  set  up  a  loom  in 
his  back  building,  for  the  encouragement  of  domestic 
industry,  as  he  said,  and  hired  other  people  to  come 
and  tend  it.  When  he  had  done  this,  he  went  to 
Uncle  Sam,  and  insisted  on  a  handful  or  two  of 
money,  to  encourage  him  in  such  patriotic  and  praise- 
worthy undertakings. 


UNCLE   SAM   AND    HIS   BOYS.  333 

"  Stop,  there,  ray  little  fellow,"  cried  the  biggest 
brother  of  all,  who  had  a  fist  like  a  sledge-hammer ; 
"  stop,  if  you  please  —  I  have  set  up  my  looms  at  my 
own  expense,  and  I'll  be  switched  if  the  old  man  is 
going  to  pay  you  for  doing  what  I  have  done  for  my- 
self." 

Then  another  started  a  blacksmith  shop  for  making 
hobnails,  and  advanced  the  same  claim  to  touch  a  few 
thousands  of  the  old  gentleman's  money  for  the  en- 
couragement of  domestic  industry,  which  about  this 
time  began  to  be  very  low-spiiited,  and  wanted  a  little 
patting. 

"  Avast,  there,  you  landlubber,"  exclaimed  one  of 
the  brothers,  a  bold,  hearty  Jack  tar,  who  had  sailed 
round  and  round  the  world,  and  was  a  mighty 
navigator.  "  Avast,  there ;  none  of  your  fresh-water 
gabble.  I  should  like  to  know  the  reason  w^hy  you 
should  be  paid  for  making  hobnails,  any  more  than  I 
am  for  building  ships.  Avast,  there,  I  say,  you  lub- 
ber, or  I'll  be  foul  of  your  dead-lights." 

Next  came  another  brother,  who  was  a  great  hand 
at  raising  sheep,  which  he  called  being  a  wool-grower, 
to  demand  that,  as  people  could  not  exist  without 
clothes,  Uncle  Sam  should  shell  out  a  few  dollars  to 
reward  him  for  being  a  great  public  benefactor. 

"  Fudge  I  "  exclaimed  the  cotton-growing  brother,  — 
"  where  one  man  is  clothed  in  wool,  a  thousand  wear 
cotton.  Why  not  encourage  me,  then,  instead  of  this 
woolly  fellow  ?  Away  with  your  bleating,  or  I'll  be 
into  your  mutton  before  you  can  say  Jack  Robin- 
son." 

Next  came  a  sober,  sedate,  economical  brother,  who 
had  set  up  a  shoe-shop,  and  wanted  Uncle  Sam's  pro- 
itection  —  that  is  to  say,  some  of  his  money. 


334  UNCLE   SAM   AND   HIS   BOYS. 

"  Rot  your  sole,"  cried  the  high-handed  gentleman, 
who  despised  hard  work,  and  had  rather  ride  a  blood- 
horse  than  make  his  own  shoes,  a  thousand  times  — 
"What  are  you  talking  about,  there?  It's  mighty 
natural,  to  be  sure,  that  you  should  be  asking  encour- 
agement for  making  shoes.  If  it  were  horseshoes, 
now,  I'd  talk  to  you." 

So  saying,  he  mounted  his  steed,  and  challenged 
Uncle  Sam  to  run  a  race  for  a  thousand  dollars. 

After  this  —  (there  was  no  end  to  their  persecution 
of  the  poor  old  man)  —  after  this  came  another 
brother,  a  great  mechanical  genius,  who  had  invented 
a  machine  for  peeling  apples,  and  wanted  encourage- 
ment of  Uncle  Sam  for  the  great  saving  of  time  and 
labour  in  making  apple-pies. 

"  Whoo !  whoo  I  whoop  ! "  cried  the  wild,  harum- 
scarum,  barbecue  boy,  one  of  Uncle  Sam's  youngest 
sons,  who  had  just  settled  a  town  away  ofT  West,  and 
had  not  yet  cast  his  moccasons ;  "whoop!  mister, 
mind  which  way  you  point  your  rifle  there  —  I  can 
turn  a  flip-flap  somerset,  grease  your  head  with  bear's 
meat,  and  swallow  you  whole  without  a  pang.  You'd 
better  take  keer  how  you  steer  your  steam-boat,  or 
you'll  run  foul  of  a  snag." 

By  and  by  came  another  of  this  hopeful  family, 
with  a  long  story  of  the  great  advantage  Uncle  Sam 
would  derive  from  clearing  out  a  ditch,  at  his  own 
expense,  for  the  benefit  of  other  people. 

Here  the  great  big  fellow  mentioned  before,  who 
was  the  richest  of  the  brothers,  put  in  his  oar  and 
cried  out:  — 

"  None  of  that  fun,  Brother  Jonathan ;  I've  done  all 
my  own  ditching  myself,  and  I'll  be  teetotally  rum- 


' 


UNCLE   SAM   AND   HIS   BOYS.  335 

swizzled  if  I  am  going  to  let  daddy  pay  you  for  just  the 
same  sort  of  work.  Dig  your  own  ditches,  my  boy, 
as  I  dug  mine." 

Then  came  a  fine  fellow,  one  of  the  young  fry,  who 
wanted  to  persuade  Uncle  Sam  to  pony  up  for  a  lane 
he  was  about  makinsf  from  his  barn  to  his  bosf- 
meadow,  which  he  assured  the  old  man  would  be 
a  vast  public  improvement;  for  that,  whereas  his 
carts  stuck  in  the  mud  now,  they  would  be  able  to 
get  along  like  a  streak  of  lightning  as  soon  as  it  was 
done. 

"Thunder  and  blarney!"  exclaimed  three  or  four 
of  the  elder  brothers  all  at  once,  "  haven't  we  made 
our  own  roads  at  our  own  cost,  and  without  asking 
daddy  for  a  cent;  and  do  you  think,  you  snivelling 
blockhead,  we'll  stand  by  and  see  the  old  man  cheated 
out  of  what  belongs  to  us  ?  " 

"  Goody  gracious ! "  at  length  cried  Uncle  Sam, 
throwing  up  his  eyes  —  "  goody  gracious,  what  can 
be  the  matter  with  these  boys !  I  believe  they  mean 
to  eat  me  up  alive.  I  wish  —  I  wish  I  was  as  poor  as 
Job's  turkey." 

Now,  all  that  was  required  for  Uncle  Sam  to  be 
just  as  he  wished  was  to  let  the  boys  have  all  his 
money,  as  they  desired.  But,  what  is  a  little  odd,  he 
never  thought  of  this,  and  continued  wishing  himself 
poor,  without  once  hitting  on  the  best  possible  way 
of  becoming  so. 

Things  went  on,  getting  worse  and  worse,  for  some 
time  afterward.  Uncle  Sam  was  almost  every  day 
pestered  for  money  to  pay  for  some  improvement  or 
other  in  the  boys'  farms.  He  kept  an  account  of 
these,  and  the  amount  they  would  cost,  and  found 


336  UNCLE   SAM   AND   HIS   BOYS. 

that  it  would  take  all  he  was  worth  in  the  world,  and 
more  besides,  to  get  through  with  half  of  them.  So, 
one  day,  he  put  his  hands  in  his  breeches'  pockets, 
and  swore  roundly  they  were  a  brood  of  ungrateful 
rogues  that  wanted  to  get  him  on  the  parish,  and  not 
another  penny  would  he  fork  out  for  man  or  beast. 

This  raised  a  terrible  hue  and  cry  among  the  boys, 
who  threatened  to  disinherit  the  old  man,  and  set  up 
for  themselves.  But  he  was  a  pretty  stiff  blade  when 
his  pluck  was  up,  and  he  thought  himself  in  the  right. 
You  might  as  well  try  to  move  a  mountain  as  Uncle 
Sam,  when  he  put  his  foot  down  and  toed  the  mark. 
He  told  the  boys  he  had  honest  debts,  and  meant  to 
pay  every  penny  he  owed  in  the  world  before  he 
began  to  talk  about  laying  out  money  in  improve- 
ments. 

These  graceless  young  scamps  were  a  little  stumped 
at  the  stand  Uncle  Sam  had  taken,  and  began  to  plot 
together  to  turn  the  old  man  out  of  house  and  home 
and  take  possession  of  all  his  estate,  as  soon  as  they 
could  bring  matters  to  bear.  Accordingly,  they  went 
about  among  their  neighbours,  insinuating  that  he 
was  incompetent  to  manage  his  affairs  any  longer. 
It  was  high  time,  they  said,  that  he  should  give  up  his 
estates  into  their  hands,  and  set  about  preparing  for  a 
better  world.  They  raised  all  sorts  of  stories  against 
him,  —  how  he  did  not  care  any  more  about  the  law 
or  the  gospel  than  a  pagan  ;  how  he  tucked  up  people 
just  for  the  pleasure  of  seeing  them  kick  their  heels 
in  the  air ;  and  how  he  threatened  to  cut  off  the  ears 
of  a  member  of  Congress,  only  because  he  told  stories 
about  him. 

In  this  way  these  roistering  boys  raised  a  great 


UNCLE    SAM    AND    HIS   BOYS.  337 

clamor  against  Uncle  Sam,  which  emboldened  them 
at  last  to  hatch  a  diabolical  plan  for  taking  away  all 
his  lands  at  one  blow.  They  were  not  content  with 
getting  them  by  degrees,  to  pay  for  building  school- 
houses,  teaching  dumb  people  philosophy,  and  a  thou- 
sand other  things ;  but  they  now  determined  to  make 
one  business  of  it,  and  strip  the  old  gentleman  as  bare 
as*  my  hand. 

Not  finding  any  law  for  this,  they  determined  to 
get  one  passed  for  the  purpose ;  to  pave  the  way  for 
which,  they  spread  abroad  a  hundred  cock-and-bull 
stories  about  this,  that,  and  the  other  thing.  They 
swore  the  land  of  right  belonged  to  them  when  they 
came  of  age,  according  to  an  old  settlement,  which 
declared  that  Uncle  Sam's  children  should  all  share 
his  estates  equally  after  his  death.  But  they  kept  the 
latter  part  to  themselves,  as  you  may  suppose,  and 
pretended  that  they  had  a  right  to  take  the  old  man's 
property  while  he  was  alive.  Besides,  they  would 
say,  the  poor  gentleman  don't  know  what  to  do  with 
so  much  land  ;  half  of  it  lies  waste  for  want  of  proper 
attention,  and,  if  we  only  had  it,  we  would  mak(^  it 
ten  times  more  valuable,  and  pay  the  taxes,  which  he 
is  exempted  from  by  virtue  of  an  ancient  charter. 

The  notion  of  getting  money  by  taxation  is  a  bait 
which  generally  takes  with  people  whose  business 
consists  in  law-making  and  not  in  tax-paying,  as  I 
have  always  heard.  So  the  legislators  who  had 
authority  where  Uncle  Sam's  property  lay  rubbed 
their  hands,  and  were  mightily  tickled  with  the  notion 
of  being  able  to  squeeze  a  little  money  from  his  new 
lands.  Perceiving  that  this  argument  told,  the  boys 
devised  another  complaint,  about  Uncle  Sam's  receiv- 

22 


oo8  UNCLE   SAM   AND   HIS   BOYS. 

ing  all  the  money  for  the  lands  he  sold,  and  then  for- 
cing those  who  bought  them  to  work  their  fingers  to 
the  bone  to  make  themselves  whole  again,  as  if  this 
were  not  the  way  all  over  the  world. 

Uncle  Sam  defended  his  bacon  to  the  last,  like 
a  stout  old  hero  as  he  was ;  but  by  degrees  the  influ- 
ence of  these  twopenny  varlets  prevailed,  and  a  law 
was  passed,  taking  away  all  his  property  and  dividing 
it  equally  among  the  boys,  so  that  those  who  were 
"shrunk  in  the  boiling"  got  the  same  portion  as  the 
big  roistering  blades,  who,  rather  than  not  come  in  for 
a  slice,  consented  at  last  to  share,  and  share  equally. 
They  were  all  specially  enjoined  to  take  care  of  Uncle 
Sam,  and  see  that  he  wanted  for  nothing;  but  the 
poor  old  man  fared  pretty  much  as  people  generally 
do  who  make  over  all  their  property  to  their  children 
in  their  lifetime.  At  first  they  treated  him  pretty  well, 
for  decency's  sake ;  but  gradually  deprived  him  of 
all  his  usual  comforts.  First,  they  took  away  his  pipe, 
because  the  young  madams  the  sons  had  married 
could  not  bear  tobacco-smoke.  Then,  the  eldest  boy 
seized  possession  of  his  arm-chair  and  his  seat  in  the 
chimney-corner.  Next,  they  removed  the  blankets 
from  his  bed,  on  the  ground  that  it  would  injure  his 
health  to  lie  too  warm ;  and  next,  nearly  starved  him 
to  death,  for  fear  he  should  die  of  apoplexy.  Finally, 
losing  all  respect  for  the  ties  of  blood,  and  all  recollec- 
tion of  the  early  benefits  they  had  derived  from  the 
good  old  man,  they  fairly  turned  him  out  of  doors. 
The  last  I  heard  of  Uncle  Sam.  he  was  in  the  poor- 
house. 


THE     HISTORY 


UNCLE    SAM    AND    HIS   WOMANKIND. 


5*^  C^iiibTTil^ 


THE     HISTORY 


UNCLE    SAM    AND    HIS    WOMANKIND. 


I  TOLD  you,  some  time  ago,  about  the  unseemly  be- 
haviour of  Uncle  Sam's  boys:  how  they  wanted  to 
divide  his  new  lands  among  themselves ;  and  how 
they  quarreled  about  the  old  man's  not  doing  his  duty 
by  them,  in  the  way  of  protection.  But,  as  it  did  not 
concern  my  business  at  that  time,  I  said  nothing  of 
his  daughters,  of  whom  he  had  a  goodly  family,  all 
buxom,  industrious  damsels ;  nor  of  his  wife,  who,  as 
all  the  world  knows,  talked  and  scolded  by  the  hour, 
and  was  never  quiet  in  the  house  five  minutes  at  a 
time ;  so  that,  what  between  the  boys,  the  girls,  and 
the  old  woman.  Uncle  Sam  had  a  time  of  it  —  espe- 
cially during  the  winter  season,  when  they  had  noth- 
ing to  do  but  sit  disputing  in  the  chimney-corner 
from  morning  till  night. 

The  old  lady.  Uncle  Sam's  wife,  according  to  the 
marriage-contract,  had  a  house  and  establishment  of 
her  own,  where  she  played  the  mistress  finely,  and  bit 
her  thumb  at  him,  as  if  he  had  been  nobody,  instead 
of  her  wedded  husband.     Report  said,  and  I  believe 


342  UNCLE   SAM    AND   HIS   WOMANKIND. 

it  spoke  truth  this  time,  that  she  was  a  mighty  capri- 
cious body,  that  hardly  ever  knew  her  own  mind ; 
and,  instead  of  treating  her  children  on  all  occasions 
alike,  had  ever  some  pet  or  other  among  them,  on 
whom  she  lavished  her  favours,  to  the  exclusion  of  the 
rest,  for  the  time  being.  But,  on  the  whole,  she  made 
Uncle  Sam  a  tolerable  wife,  as  times  go,  and  took 
special  good  care  of  his  money,  except  when  it  was 
to  be  spent  on  her  own  back.  She  always  made  out 
to  have  plenty  of  cash  for  her  household  expenses, 
and  never  wanted  pin-money,  tliough  the  rest  of  the 
family  might  be  destitute  enough.  She  was  exceed- 
ingly jealous  of  her  dignity,  and  never  would  let  Un- 
cle Sam  have  a  finger  in  any  })ie  of  hers  ;  though, 
sometimes,  when  the  worthy  old  gentleman  put  his 
arms  a-kimbo,  and  plucked  up  courage  to  say  NO  to 
some  of  her  extravagant  schemes  of  domestic  im- 
provement, she  made  a  great  to-do,  and  cackled  about 
the  house  for  all  the  world  like  an  old  hen  that  has 
lost  her  last  chicken. 

The  daughters  were,  in  the  main,  honest,  industri- 
ous, good  girls;  but  they  took  after  the  old  lady,  in 
being  most  mighty  talkers ;  and,  beside  this,  had  a 
pestilent  notion  that  Uncle  Sam  did  not  do  by  one 
as  he  did  by  the  other.  He  never  patted  one  on  the 
cheek,  or  kissed  her  rosy  lip,  that  the  rest  did  not  pout 
in  a  corner  for  a  whole  day ;  and,  if  he  happened  to 
give  one  of  them  a  new  gown  or  a  pair  of  ear-rings 
or  any  such  matter,  the  others  would  spit  fire  at  him, 
like  so  many  mad  pussy-cats,  and  raise  a  fine  dust  in 
his  chimney-corner.  But,  notwithstanding  these  kick- 
ups,  they  were  a  very  united  family,  and  prided 
themselves  on   having  a  common  interest  in  every- 


UNCLE   SAM    AND    HIS    WOMANKIND.  343 

thing.  In  truth,  the  little  bickerings  they  sometimes 
had  were  nothing  but  April  showers,  that,  as  it  were, 
cleared  the  air,  and  produced  a  fresh  crop  of  good-will 
and  sisterly  affection.  One  thing  was  repeatedly  ob- 
served of  them,  that  let  them  be  quarreling  never  so 
hard,  they  almost  always  pulled  together  against  a 
common  enemy. 

But,  after  living  in  this  way,  sometimes  falling  out, 
and  invariably  making  friends  again,  until  many  of 
them  had  grown  up,  a  bone  of  contention  was  some- 
how thrown  in  among  them,  which,  it  was  feared, 
would  at  length  dissolve  the  family  union,  that,  not- 
withstanding these  little  squalls,  had  furnished  an  ex- 
ample of  prosperity  and  happiness  to  the  whole  coun- 
try round,  insomuch  that  the  neighbours  looked  up  to 
it  with  equal  envy  and  admiration.  It  seems  that 
some  of  the  girls,  being,  as  I  said  before,  naturally 
given  to  industrious  habits,  and  fond  of  making  a 
trifle  of  pocket-money  for  themselves,  had  set  up  vari- 
ous little  domestic  manufactures  within  doors,  such 
as  spinning,  weaving,  making  stra\v-bonnets,  and  the 
like ;  which  the  others,  being  inclined  to  different  oc- 
cupations, such  as  cultivating  the  garden,  attending 
to  the  dairy,  and,  it  may  be,  sometimes  reading  ro- 
mances and  poetry,  did  hold  in  great  contempt,  and 
take  every  opportunity  to  laugh  at  incontinently. 
This  by  degrees  bred  a  terrible  hubbub  in  Uncle 
Sam's  family,  insomuch  that  the  worthy  patriarch 
had  no  rest  night  or  day,  and  at  divers  times  applied 
to  the  old  lady  to  interfere.  But  he  only  burnt  his 
fingers,  for  every-body  said  she  generally  made  mat- 
ters ten  times  worse  by  trying  to  mend  them. 

Things  went  on  at  this  rate  for  some  time,  and 


844  UNCLE    SAM    AND    HIS   WOMANKIND. 

Uncle  Sam  was  privately  heard  to  declare,  that  he 
most  devoutly  wished  all  the  young  baggages  fairly 
married  and  settled  off;  "  though,"  added  the  good 
simple  soul,  "  heaven  help  the  man  that  undertakes  to 
manage  them."  At  length,  step  by  step,  by  little  and 
little,  a  habit  of  contention  grew  up  among  them,  so 
that  they  never  met  without  having  a  fling  at  each 
other.  One  party  became  perfectly  idle,  out  of  pure 
spite;  and  the  other  spent  all  their  time  in  huddling 
together,  scolding  and  talking,  and  coming  to  resolu- 
tions to  play  the  deuse,  and  turn  up  jack  in  the  house, 
if  something  was  not  done  to  quiet  the  idle  jades  who 
did  nothing  but  skim  novels  and  write  verses. 

By  the  marriage-compact  between  Uncle  Sam  and 
his  wife,  it  was  agreed  that  matters  of  import  in  the 
family  affairs  should  be  talked  over  and  settled  in  the 
old  lady's  premises,  and  under  her  special  sanction. 
All  the  privilege  reserved  to  the  old  gentleman  was 
that  of  saying  yes  and  no  ;  with  a  special  injunction, 
that  he  should  avoid  the  latter  on  all  occasions,  on 
penalty  of  a  good  scolding  from  his  wife  and  short 
commons  at  dinner.  The  old  gentleman,  after  cast- 
ing about,  and  turning  the  matter  this  way  and  that, 
inside  and  out,  upsidedown  and  topsy-turvy,  and 
cudgelling  his  brains  till  they  foamed  up  like  whip- 
syllabub,  at  length  determined  to  call  these  refractory 
damsels  before  the  old  lady  in  her  own  house,  and 
leave  it  to  her  to  settle  the  matter.  At  the  same 
time  he  could  not  help  laughing  in  his  sleeve  at  what 
a  devil  of  a  job  he  had  bequeathed  her.  "  Let  them 
scold  it  out,"  thought  he ;  "  I  wash  my  hands  of  it." 
So  he  sat  himself  down  and  smoked  his  pipe,  like  a 
hearty  old  cock  as  he  was. 


UNCLE   SAM    AND    HIS   WOMANKIND.  845 

Now  the  obstreperous  damsels  were  accordingly 
called  together  before  the  old  lady,  who  had  a  hot  cup 
of  strong  tea  ready  for  them,  and,  having  initiated 
each  into  a  little  gentle  excitement  by  plying  her  with 
the  cooling  beverage,  desired  them  to  tell  what  they 
had  to  say  in  as  few  words  as  possible ;  for  the  old 
lady  loved  to  hear  herself  talk  a  great  deal  better  than 
she  did  any  body  else,  you  may  depend  upon  it. 

The  first  that  spoke  was  one  of  the  elder  sisters, 
the  eldest  but  one,  who  was  called  Miss  Massy  Two- 
shoes,  a  notable,  clever,  sensible,  well-educated,  girl,  a 
great  lover  of  cucumbers  and  dumb-fish  ;  (but  she  was 
a  pretty  particular  loud  talker,  for  all  she  liked  dumb- 
fish).  She  stated  to  the  old  lady,  in  as  many  words 
as  possible,  what  I  shall  not  repeat,  for  the  special 
reason  that  I  will  not  be  accessory  to  increasing  the 
burthens  of  posterity,  which  will  be  condemned  to 
bear  enough  without  my  aid,  provided  it  is  obliged  to 
read  all  that  has  already  been  spoken  and  written  on 
the  subject.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  Miss  Massy  made 
out  a  tolerably  clear  case,  and  proved,  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  every-body  that  was  of  the  same  opinion  be- 
fore, that  domestic  industry  consisted  entirely  of  work 
done  in  manufactories,  two  or  three  miles  from  home  ; 
that  spinning-jennies  were  the  corner-stones  of  na- 
tional prosperity ;  and  weaver's-beams  the  best  of  all 
possible  weapons  of  defence  against  a  foreign  enemy. 

The  next  sister  that  spoke  was  Miss  Carolina,  who 
was  reckoned  one  of  the  genteelest  of  the  family, 
though  her  complexion  was  a  little  bronzed,  on  ac- 
count of  sleeping  in  a  room  that  fronted  the  South, 
where  she  was  rather  too  much  exposed  to  the  sun. 
Whether  this  southern  aspect  aftected  her  temper  or 


346  UNCLE   SAM    AND    HIS   WOMANKIND. 

not,  I  can't  tell,  but  she  was  a  high-spirited  little  body, 
and  had  lately  given  the  old  woman,  and  Uncle  Sam 
too,  a  great  deal  of  uneasiness,  by  threatening  to  marry 
against  their  consent,  and  set  up  for  herself  under  his 
very  nose.  She  was  a  fine  girl,  but  rather  fond  of 
show,  and  somewhat  extravagant  with  her  allowance, 
in  consequence  of  which  she  was  sometimes  short  of 
money.  All  this  she  laid  at  the  door  of  Uncle  Sam's 
partiality  for  some  of  the  other  sisters,  though  it  was 
shrewdly  suspected  that  her  being  so  often  out  of 
pocket  was  partly  owing  to  her  having  such  a  fierce 
hankering  after  travelling  and  junketing  about  all 
summer,  that,  the  moment  the  birds  began  to  sing 
and  the  flowers  to  bloom  at  home,  neither  the  old 
man  nor  the  old  Harry  could  keep  her  within  doors. 
Like  the  wild  ducks  and  geese,  she  was  seen  flying 
North  as  soon  as  the  rivers  and  lakes  were  clear  of 
ice.  But  for  all  this  I  can't  help  saying  that,  if  I  were 
a  bachelor,  I  should  like  to  have  such  a  baggage  for  a 
wife,  though  she  is  so  great  an  enemy  to  union  that  I 
fear  I  should  have  some  trouble  to  keep  her  in  order. 
Be  this  as  it  may.  Miss  Carry  made  a  considerable 
long  talk,  in  which  she  clearly  showed,  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  those  who  did  not  disagree  with  her,  that 
domestic  industry  was  occupying  one's  self  abroad 
instead  of  at  home ;  that  spinning-jennies  were  the 
foundation  of  all  abominations,  and  not  the  pillars 
o[  independence;  and  that  she  herself  would  under- 
take, with  a  sling  and  a  stone,  to  discomfit  all  the 
weaver's-beams  in  the  universe,  with  Goliath  at  their 
head.  How  she  proved  all  this  I  can't  explain  ;  for, 
may  I  be  "  eternally  onswoggled,"  as  they  say  in  Ken- 
tucky, if  I  am  not  so  utterly  confounded  with  elucida- 


UNCLE    SAM    AND    HIS   WOMANKIND.  347 

tions,  vindications,  declamations,  and  observations  on 
this  horrible  subject,  that  if  I  do  not  lose  my  wits 
before  it  is  finally  settled,  I  shall  certainly,  in  pure 
gratitude,  found  an  hospital  for  politicians  who  have 
lost  their  reason  by  reasoning. 

INIiss  Massy  and  Miss  Carry,  being,  the  antipodes 
or  extremes  in  this  case,  like  the  blades  of  a  pair  of 
shears,  got  all  the  other  sisters  crimped  up  between 
them,  and,  as  it  were,  almost  cut  them  in  two.  There 
was  Miss  Pen,  a  bouncing  girl  in  a  Quaker  bonnet,  a 
plain  industrious  creature,  but  a  great  belle  just  about 
this  time,  because  she  had  a  big  voice,  held  the  purse- 
strings,  and  carried  mighty  sway  in  the  family,  inso- 
much that  the  rest  of  the  sisters  complained  that  for 
several  years  past  Uncle  Sam  and  his  wife  had  spent 
more  money  on  her  than  on  all  the  rest  of  the  girls 
put  together.  Pen  had  a  charming  face,  and  an  agree- 
able aspect ;  but,  if  you  looked  at  her  back,  she  was 
rather  Dutch-built,  as  they  say. 

Then  there  was  Miss  Virginia,  the  eldest  of  the 
girls,  who,  I  confess,  was  a  great  favorite  of  mine, 
though  a  little  proud,  and  on  the  shady  side  of  thirty. 
She  was  an  independent  damsel,  who  always  thought 
for  herself  and  acted  for  herself.  She  took  her  own 
way  in  every  thing,  and  went  quietly  to  work,  with- 
out scolding  or  making  a  hubbub  in  the  family,  except 
on  very  special  occasions.  I  always  thought  her  a 
girl  of  excellent  principles,  and  looked  upon  her  as 
one  of  the  main-stays  of  Uncle  Sam's  family,  which 
she  often  presided  over  with  dignity  and  discretion. 
Virginia  was  no  great  hand  at  the  spinning-jenny  and 
weaver's-beam,  but  she  was  fond  of  rural  economy, 
and  delighted  in  the  innocent  and  gentle  excitements 


a48  UNCLE   SAM   AND   HIS   WOMANKIND. 

of  a  country  life.  Above  all,  she  knew  her  own  mind, 
which  is  an  excellent  thing  in  man  or  woman  ;  and,  it 
was  said  correctly,  you  always  knew  where  to  fmd 
her,  to  wit,  at  home. 

There  was  also  ]Miss  York,  as  she  was  called;  for  I 
ought  to  have  observed  before,  that  Uncle  Sam  and 
his  old  woman  had  a  queer  notion  of  naming  many 
of  their  daughters  after  a  parcel  of  sixteenth  cousins 
beyond  sea.  Miss  York  was  the  largest  of  the  family, 
a  buxom,  easy-tempered  creature,  who  liad  so  many 
employments  about  the  house,  that  she  did  not  lly 
into  a  passion  when  one  of  them  was  interfered  wi1h. 
If  she  had  any  fault,  it  was  that  of  not  know^ing  her 
own  mind  for  half  an  hour  together;  though,  in  justice 
to  her,  I  must  observe  that  she  accounted  for  these 
frequent  changes  from  north  to  south,  and  from  east 
to  west,  very  ingeniously.  She  was  perfectly  independ- 
ent, she  said ;  and  girls  that  could  do  as  they  pleased 
had  a  right  to  change  their  opinions  as  often  as  they 
pleased,  or  where  was  the  use  of  being  one's  own 
mistress  ?  The  rest  of  the  girls  often  taunted  her  with 
this,  but  she  got  off  very  well  by  saying  it  was  better 
to  be  a  feather,  blown  about  by  the  wind,  than  an  old, 
rusty  weathercock,  which,  if  it  once  got  wrong,  re- 
mained so  to  the  end  of  time.  Probably  one  reason 
why  Miss  York  seemed  sometimes  to  float  about,  as 
it  were,  without  rudder  or  compass,  was,  that  she 
grew  so  very  large  that  when  a  notion  sprung  up  in 
one  end  of  her  head  it  had  so  far  to  travel  to  reach 
the  other  that  it  died  of  old  age  before  it  arrived  there ; 
and  so,  when  an  impulse  waked  up  in  her  heart,  body 
o'  me !  if  I  don't  suspect  it  fell  fast  asleep  before  it 
arrived  at  the  extremities.     While  it  was  glowing  in 


UNXLE   SAM    AND    HIS    WOMANKIND.  349 

one  place,  the  other  remained  quite  cool;  and  it 
seldom  or  never  happened,  that  every  part  of  this 
stout  spinster  was  under  the  same  impression  at  one 
and  the  same  time.  Now  your  little  people,  like  Miss 
E-hoda,  another  of  Uncle  Sam's  daughters,  are  not 
subject  to  such  contingencies.  A  spark  will  set  them 
on  fire  from  the  roof  to  the  cellar,  and  the  smallest 
atom  of  a  little  local  interest,  like  a  stone  thrown  into 
a  puddle,  will  agitate  them  from  the  centre  to  the  cir- 
cumference. It  is  next  to  impossible  to  make  a  very 
large  person  angry  all  over  at  once,  while  the  prick  of 
a  pin  w^ill  convulse  a  little  contentious  body  like  Miss 
Rhoda.  I  thought  it  meet  to  say  thus  much  in  behalf 
of  a  young  woman  with  whom  I  have  long  kept  com- 
pany, and  for  whom,  I  confess  between  ourselves,  I 
have  a  bashful  predilection,  especially  as  some  certain 
persons,  who  owe  all  their  consequence  to  her  patron- 
age and  good-will,  have  lately  taken  upon  themselves 
to  disparage  her  before  Uncle  Sam  and  the  old 
woman,  more  than  once.  I  maintain  that  she  can 
hold  up  her  head  on  every  occasion  and  everywhere, 
with  any  of  Uncle  Sam's  girls,  and  snap  her  fingers 
at  her  detractors,  who  are  no  better  than  they  should 
be ;  and,  indeed,  not  half  so  good,  for  that  matter. 

On  one  side  of  Miss  York  sat  a  sly  little  toad,  Miss 
Connecticut  —  a  hard  name  for  a  sphister;  (but,  never 
mind,  young  ladies  always  live  in  hopes  of  getting 
rid  of  such  incumbrances ;  )  and  on  the  other,  a  tight, 
small  affair  of  a  damsel,  known  among  the  family  as 
little  Jersey  Blue,  from  her  having  a  couple  of  as  beau- 
tiful blue  eyes  as  ever  looked  through  a  pair  of  spec- 
tacles. Little  Conn,  as  she  was  called,  was  a  mighty 
snug,  steady-going  girl ;  a  trifle  prinky,  but  not  averse 


350  UNCLE   SAM   AND   HIS   WOMANKIND. 

to  a  training  or  a  thanksgiving-frolic.  There  was 
nothing  she  loved  like  sparking  it  of  a  Saturday 
night;  and  nothing  she  abominated  like  travelling  on 
Sundays,  unless  to  church  to  be  married.  She  had 
several  sweethearts  in  her  day ;  but,  somehow  or 
other,  lost  them  all.  However,  she  did  very  well  by 
the  matter,  for  she  prosecuted  them  for  a  breach  of 
promise,  and  recovered  damages  sufficient  to  console 
the  most  inconsolable  damsel  that  ever  died  of  a 
broken  heart.  She  was  an  industrious,  pains-taking 
body,  and  the  best  hand  at  house-keej)ing  among 
Uncle  Sam's  daughters.  She  saved  all  the  goose- 
feathers,  and  could  make  wooden  nutmegs  that  would 
deceive  any  of  the  Coenties  Slip  grocers. 

Little  Jersey  Blue  and  Miss  York  slept  in  the  same 
room,  together ;  but,  as  frequently  happens,  they  did 
not  agree  the  better  for  that.  It  seems  that  an  old 
gentleman-,  called  in  the  family  Uncle  Charles,  had,  a 
great  many  years  ago,  wdien  they  w^ere  very  young, 
bequeathed  them  each  a  piece  of  land,  w'hich  w4ien 
they  grew  up  they  cultivated  as  garden-plots.  A  creek 
ran  between  them,  which  abounded  in  fish  and  oysters, 
of  which  the  girls  were  excessively  fond ;  and  they 
were  eternally  disputing  about  this  matter,  though 
every  body  said  there  w^as  quite  enough  for  both  of 
them.  Miss  York  claimed  the  w^hole  creek,  because, 
she  said,  her  piece  of  land  was  six  times  as  large  as 
the  other ;  but  little  Jersey  Blue,  w4io  had  a  tongue 
and  a  temper  of  her  own,  flouted  such  notions.  She 
said,  that  if  Uncle  Charles  w^as  such  a  fool  as  to  give 
her  sister  all  the  land,  she  was  not  such  a  fool  as 
to  give  up  all  the  water,  and  therefore  she  was  re- 
solved to  have  her  full  share  of  the  oysters.     This 


UNCLE   SAM   AND   HIS   WOMANKIND.  351 

bred  great  contentions  between  them,  insomuch  that  I 
am  sorry  to  say  they  at  last  got  to  pulling  caps  over 
a  fine  oyster-bed.  Hereupon  the  friends  of  the  family 
interfered,  and  advised  them,  as  they  were  both  of 
age,  to  go  to  law  about  the  matter,  which  many  peo- 
ple thought  was  getting  out  of  the  frying-pan  into 
the  fire.  However,  Miss  York,  being,  as  I  said,  a 
good-natured,  fat,  spinster,  consented  to  waive  her 
rights,  and  both  sides  referred  the  matter  to  the  justice, 
each  secretly  determining  in  her  own  mind  to  submit 
quietly  to  his  decision,  provided  it  was  in  her  own 
favour:  and  thus  the  affair  stood  at  the  period  of 
Yv^hich  I  speak. 

But  it  is  high  time  I  say  something  of  Uncle  Sam's 
youngest  daughter,  who,  because  she  slept  in  the  west 
chamber  of  the  house,  which  was  very  large,  went  by 
the  name  of  the  Great  West;  for  she  was  quite  stout 
of  her  age,  and  had  grown  up,  like  Jack's  bean-stalk, 
in  a  single  night,  and  presumed  not  a  little  on  her 
great  size.  Some  people  said  she  had  rather  out- 
grown her  discretion,  but  it  was  behind  her  back,  for 
if  she  had  heard  it,  I  warrant  you  she  would  have 
given  them  a  sound  box  on  the  ear.  She  was  a  wild, 
graceful  hoyden,  that  cared  nothing  for  dress,  and  was 
all  the  while  riding  on  horseback ;  that  is  when  she 
could  get  a  horse  to  ride,  for  Uncle  Sam  was  very 
much  afraid  she  would  meet  with  some  accident,  she 
^ode  at  such  a  rate.  But  she  was  a  line,  high-spirited 
girl,  an  honour  to  the  lamily,  and  one  who  would 
make  an  excellent  wife  to  a  man  that  carried  a  tiglit 
rein  and  sat  stiff  in  the  saddle.  There  were  several 
:)ther  daughters,  whose  names  I  shall  not  particularize 
n  this  place,  but  who,  (some  of  them  at  least),  will  be 
jioticed  by  and  by. 


352  UNCLE   SAM    AND    HIS   WOMANKIND. 

The  time  being  come,  they  all  appeared  in  their 
best  bibs  and  tuckers,  in  the  presence  of  the  old  lady, 
who  had  thrown  open  the  great  hall  of  the  house,  and 
made  up  her  mind,  for  the  first  time  since  she  was 
married,  to  listen  instead  of  talk.  Uncle  Sam  kept 
at  an  awful  distance,  for  he  had  heard  enough  about 
this  business  to  serve  him  all  the  rest  of  his  life.  Be- 
ing requested  to  speak  according  to  their  respective 
ages,  and  not  to  interrupt  each  other.  Miss  Virginia 
opened  the  case. 

She  was  moderate,  didactic,  and  metaphysical;  but, 
on  the  whole,  made  a  very  respectable  figure  on  the 
occasion ;  and,  as  she  had  a  right  to  do,  (being  the  el- 
dest), treated  the  younger  girls  to  a  weary  deal  of 
good  advice  about  obeying  their  parents,  loving  each 
other  with  a  sisterly  affection,  and  preserving  the  fam- 
ily union.  When  she  came  to  this  part  of  her  speech, 
little  Carry  could  stand  it  no  longer,  but  interrupted 
her  in  a  great  passion. 

"Union!"  said  she  —  "marry,  come  up  I  I  should 
like  to  know  what  I  get  by  the  family  union,  but  culls, 
instead  of  coppers  ?  See  here,  I  have  calculated  the 
value  of  the  union  to  a  fraction,  and  find  that  I  have 
lost  at  least  six  and  eightpence  of  my  pocket-money 
by  it,  already." 

Then  she  showed  her  calculation,  which  would 
have  puzzled  Mr.  Bowditch  himself,  for  she  knew  no 
more  about  ciphering  than  the  man  in  the  moon. 

"  Well,  my  dear  Carry,"  said  Miss  York,  with  her 
usual  good-nature,  "  suppose  you  have  lost  sLx:  and 
eightpence  —  what  then?  You  have  only  to  stay  at 
home  next  summer,  instead  of  travelling  about  as  you 
do  every  season,  and  you'll  save  ten  times  as  much. 


UNCLE   SAM   AND   HIS   WOMANKIND.  353 

Now  do  be  a  good  girl,  do  Carry,  and  mind  what 
your  parents  say  to  you." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  sister,"  replied  Miss  Carry, 
"  you'd  better  go  and  look  to  your  oyster-beds,  and  let 
me  alone." 

And  then  she  fell  to  calculating  the  value  of  the 
family  union,  again ;  but,  happening  to  miss  a  figure 
or  two,  she  made  out  her  losses  to  be  so  great,  .that 
she  almost  fell  into  hysterics.  I  ought  to  have  men- 
tioned, in  the  beginning  of  this  true  history,  that,  after 
Uncle  Sam  had  been  argued  out  of  his  lands  in  the 
manner  I  formerly  stated,  he  grew  so  poor,  that  each 
of  the  girls  who  had  come  in  for  a  share  of  the  family 
spoils  was  obliged  to  pay  her  proportion  of  the  expen- 
ses of  house-keeping. 

When  Miss  Virginia  had  got  through.  Miss  Massy 
Twoshoes  replied,  and  talked  a  great  deal  about  the 
old  story  of  spinning -jennies  and  weaver's -beams. 
But  as  this  is  a  worn-out  topic,  I  shall  refer  to  the 
seventeen  thousand  volumes  of  documents,  reports, 
addresses,  speeches,  &c.,  that  have  been  perpetrated 
on  the  subject.  She  concluded  by  giving  poor  little 
Carry  a  lecture  on  disobedience  to  her  parents ;  but 
she  got  as  good  as  she  gave,  for  the  peppery  brunette 
cut  her  short. 

"  The  less  you  say  about  that  matter.  Miss  Goody 
'  Twoshoes,  the  better,"  said  she.  "  I  suppose  you 
have  forgot,  for  it  is  very  convenient  to  have  a  short 
memory  sometimes  —  I  suppose  you  have  forgot, 
when  daddy  was  fighting,  not  long  ago,  with  old 
John  Bull,  in  defence  of  his  bacon,  how  you  sneaked 
away,  and  said  John  was  in  the  right,  and  that  your 
poor  old  father  deserved  a  good  beating !     And  don't 

23 


354  UNCLE   SAM   AND    HIS   WOMANKIND. 

you  remember  how  you  threw  up  your  eyes,  like  a 
great  hypocritical  old  maid  as  you  are,  and  refused  to 
rejoice,  when  he  at  last  got  the  better  of  his  antago- 
nist? Ha!  hah!  Miss  Goody  Twoshoes,  I've  not  lost 
my  memory,  though  it  seems  you  have." 

Miss.  Massy  did  not  pretend  to  deny  this,  but  flung 
up  her  hands,  and  exclaimed,  "  what  a  little  vixen !  " 

Miss  Virginia,  and  Miss  Pen,  and  Miss  Georgiana 
the  next  sister  to  little  Carry,  and  the  Great  West, 
all  called  out  shame  on  her,  for  treating  her  elder  sis- 
ter in  this  manner ;  but  as  for  Miss  York,  she  had  got 
such  a  wipe  about  her  oyster  war,  that  she  sat  with 
folded  arms,  as  quiet  as  a  lamb.  But  little  Carry  was 
a  match  for  them  all.  She  turned  to  Virginia,  and 
exclaimed, 

"  Yoic  needn't  talk,  madam :  —  how  long  is  it  since 
you  wrote  a  saucy  letter  to  our  father,  telling  him  as 
much  as  that  he  was  an  old  fool,  and  didn't  know  his 
own  rights,  or  those  of  his  daughters?  If  I  don't 
mistake,  you  were  very  obedient  then,  for  you  threat- 
ened, if  he  didn't  mind  his  p's  and  q's,  you'd  quit  his 
house  and  kill  your  own  mutton.  As  for  you,  Miss  Pen, 
with  your  Quaker  bonnet  and  smooth  face  —  how  I  do 
hate  hypocritical  faces  !  —  as  for  you,  Miss  —  I  am 
almost  ashamed  to  talk  about  such  a  filthy  subject  — 
but  didn't  you  once  fly  in  the  face  of  our  good  father, 
(at  least  I  thought  him  so  then),  because  —  because 
—  pshaw !  it  makes  me  sick  to  think  of  it  —  because 
he  raised  the  price  of  his  whiskey?  And  as  for  yoUj 
Miss  Georgiana,  you'd  better  go  home  and  take  care 
of  the  poor  old  Cherokee  Indian  you  want  to  turn  out 
of  the  farm  old  uncle  Charles  left  you,  like  a  great  oaf 
as  he  was ;  and  you'd  better  go  and  settle  that  matter 


UNCLE   SAM    AND    HIS   WOMANKIND.  oOO 

about  the  parson  —  you  understand  me,  sister.  Marry, 
come  up  I  instead  of  lecturing  and  lecturing  one  in 
this  manner,  I  tell  you  again,  I've  calculated  the  value 
of  the  family  union  to  a  fraction,  and  settled  the 
balance  by  Cocker's  Arithmetic,  and  there's  an  end 
of  it." 

Then  she  turned  round  to  the  Great  West :  — 
"  As  for  you,  you  great  overgrown  awkward  thing, 
you'd  better  go  home  too,  and  put  on  your  moccasons. 
Only  look   at  the   creature,  in  her  homespun  frock, 


stitched  with  bark,  and  pinned  with  great  thorns! 
What  a  pretty  figure  you'd  make  in  a  drawing-room 
—  and  who's  your  mantua-maker,  pray?  I  suppose 
you  don't  remember  either,  when  you  threatened  the 
old  gentleman,  to  run  away,  the  Lord  knows  where, 
because  he  did  not  choose  to  go  to  loggerheads  with 
one  of  his  neighbors,  about  a  mill-stream  he  would 
not  let  you  sail  bark-boats  on  ?  Once  for  all,  I  tell 
you,  you're  all  as  deep  in  the  mnd  as  I  am  in  the 
mire,  and  had  better  be  quiet  about  the  family  union. 
There  isn't  one  of  you  that  has  not  deserved  to  be 
well  switched,  half  a  dozen  times." 

This  broadside  pretty  conclusively  silenced  Miss 
Massy  Twoshoes  and  the  rest  of  them,  and  almost 
overawed  the  old  lady,  who  could  not  help  in  her 
heart,  however,  being  proud  of  a  daughter  so  much 
.  like  herself,  in  the  matter  of  having  a  tongue  in  her 
head.  After  considering  a  short  time,  she  looked 
round,  and  fixed  her  attention  on  Miss  York,  whose 
good-temper  and  discretion  she  looked  to,  in  a  great 
measure,  for  settling  all  the  family  feuds.  She  ac- 
cordingly called  upon  her  for  an  opinion  on  the  best 
mode  of  bringing  about  so  desirable  a  consummation. 


356  UNCLE    SAM    AND    HIS    WOMANKIND. 

The  good  spinster  was  somewhat  puzzled.  The 
trutli  is,  her  head  had  one  oj^uiion,  and  her  heels 
another;  the  heart  was  pretty  decided,  but  the  ends  of 
the  fingers  and  toes,  being,  as  I  observed  before,  such 
a  great  way  off,  had  each  a  different  bias,  and  could 
by  no  means  be  brought  to  a  proper  understanding 
with  each  other.  The  consequence  was,  the  poor  girl 
was  pulled  so  many  different  ways,  that  she  could 
hardly  hold  together,  and  spoke  first  on  one  side  of 
the  question,  then  on  the  other,  until  Satan  himself 
would  have  been  puzzled  to  tell  her  real  opinion,  if  she 
had  any,  which  was  doubtful. 

Now,  if  I  had  been  the  old  lady,  I  should  have 
made  something  like  tiie  following  sj:)eech. 

"  Sit  down,  you  overgrown  goose,  sit  down  till  you 
can  make  up  your  mind  to  say  something  a  body  can 
understand.  And  now  hear  me,  young  ladies.  Touch- 
ing the  blessings  and  advantages  of  the  family  union, 
which  I  hope  none  of  you  doubt  or  disparage,  except 
Miss  Carry,  who  I  advise  to  stay  where  she  is,  for 
nobody  else  will  take  in  such  a  little  vixen  —  touching 
the  family  union,  I  say,  I  trust  there  is  no  necessity 
for  me  to  point  out  its  benefits  and  blessings.  INIiss 
Carry  may  calculate  them  if  she  pleases,  but  I  can't 
liclp  laughing  to  think  of  her  pretending  to  cipher, 
when  I  remember  she  never  could  tell  the  amount  of 
three  yards  of  calico  at  sixpence  a  yard.  But,  as  I 
was  saying — what  was  I  saying? — O !,  you  will 
never  agree,  if  you  continue  to  differ  in  this  way  all 
your  lives :  at  least,  that  is  my  present  opinion.  The 
best  manner  of  settling  this  question  will  be,  to  think 
of  the  manifold  advantages  of  sisterly  and  domestic 
union  —  the    strength,  the    wealth,  the   dignity    and 


UNCLE   SAM   AND    HIS   WOMANKIND.  357 

happiness  it  communicates  to  all  —  and  not,  like 
Cany  there,  calculate  the  six  and  eightpence  it  costs 
to  keep  the  pot  boiling  and  the  chimney-corner  warm. 
And  then,  how  unseemly  and  wicked  it  is,  for  sisters 
to  be  always  squabbling  and  fighting,  and  calling  each 
other  names,  and  falling  into  fits  of  envy  and  jealousy, 
because  one  outgrows  the  other,  or  is  a  little  hand- 
somer; or  because  their  parents  give  one  a  ring, 
another  a  new  gown,  another  a  pair  of  silk  stockings. 
Such  carryings-on  disgrace  a  family,  let  it  be  never 
so  prosperous,  and  prevent  its  members  ever  being 
happy  or  respectable.  I'll  tell  you  what,  girls,  you 
will  become  the  laughing-stock  of  the  neighbourhood, 
and  not  one  of  the  young  men  will  ever  cast  a  sheep's- 
eye  at  you.  You'll  never  be  married  if  you  go  on  in 
this  w^ay ;  and  as  for  Carry,  I  pity  the  poor  man,  if 
there  be  any  such  desperate  character  in  the  world, 
who  should  undertake  her  guidance.  She'll  lead  him 
a  dance,  I'll  be  bound.  My  dear  daughters,  I  beg  of 
you  now,  join  hands,  be  friends,  sisters,  again,  and 
each  follow  your  own  tastes,  inclinations,  and  employ- 
ments, without  interfering  with  those  of  the  others. 
Massy,  and  the  rest  of  you  that  like,  can  spin  and 
weave,  while  you,  Virginia,  and  those  that  choose, 
may  cultivate  your  fruits  and  vegetables  and  garden- 
flowers,  and  milk  the  cows,  in  peace  and  quiet.  All 
,  these  employments  are  equally  useful  in  their  proper 
sphere,  and  under  proper  discipline,  and  all  essenlial 
to  the  welfare  of  your  father's  house.  Come  now,  be 
good  girls  —  kiss,  and  be  friends  —  and  may  heaven 
bless  you  all,  my  dear  daughters." 

But,  instead  of  making  such  a  discreet  common- 
place speech  as  this,  the  old  lady  talked  all  round  the 


I 


358  UNCLE   SAM    AND    HIS  WOMANKIND. 

compass  ten  times  worse  than  Miss  York.  She 
declaimed  and  flourished  away,  first  lauding  the  spin- 
ning-jenny and  weaver's-beam,  then  denouncing  them 
as  pestilent  innovations  and  praising  the  simplicity  of 
a  country  life  and  rural  occupations,  until  neither  she 
herself,  her  daughters,  nor  any  body  else,  could  tell 
what  her  opinion  on  the  subject  was.  In  short,  after 
talking  herself  dry,  and  tiring  her  hearers  to  death, 
she  concluded  by  coming  to  no  conclusion,  at  the 
same  time  beseeching  the  girls  to  have  patience,  keep 
their  tempers,  shake  hands,  and  be  friends. 

"  Well,  for  my  part,"  said  ^liss  Massy  Twoshoes, 
"  I  have  not  the  least  objection,  provided  I  can  have 
my  will  in  one  thing." 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Miss  Carry,  "  on  the  same  condition." 

"  Nor  I,"  echoed  all  the  others  in  chorus. 

"  My  dear  children,"  cried  the  old  lady,  with  tears 
in  her  eyes,  "  how  your  poor  old  father  will  be 
delighted  with  your  dutiful  submission.  And  what 
is  it  my  darlings  would  have?  What  is  this  con- 
dition ?  " 

"  That  we  each  of  us  have  our  own  way  in  every- 
thing," cried  the  sisters,  in  full  chorus. 

The  old  lady  was  struck  dumb  at  this  new  mode 
of  preserving  the  family  union. 

"  Go,"  said  she  at  length,  "  go  to  your  old  father, 
receive  his  blessing,  and  quit  our  presence  forever,  if 
such  is  your  wicked  will." 

The  refractory  baggages  obeyed  her  for  once  in 
their  lives,  and  departed,  crying  out  together,  "  Di- 
vided we  stand,  united  we  fall." 

Thus  was  the  great  union  of  Uncle  Sam's  family 
dissolved  forever.     But  the  vengeance  of  heaven  over- 


I 


UNCLE   SAM   AND    HIS   WOMANKIND.  359 

took  these  unnatural  children.  Wherever  they  went, 
people  pointed  their  fingers  at  them,  and  cried  out,  in 
their  hearing,  "  here  are  the  foolish  virgins,  that  calcu- 
lated the  value  of  a  family  union  by  pounds,  shillings, 
and  pence,  and  left  the  house  of  their  father  because 
they  could  not  have  their  own  way  in  every  thing." 
Nobody  would  receive  them,  nobody  would  associate 
with  them,  and  they  wandered  about  in  rags  and  beg- 
gary, a  prey  to  each  other,  a  scoff  to  the  virtuous, 
a  mark  for  the  finger  of  scorn.  They  lived,  and  died, 
miserably.  Poor  Carry,  the  ringleader  in  this  mon- 
strous affair,  was  inveigled  into  the  arms  of  a  wily 
stranger,  who,  after  robbing  her  of  all  she  had,  hon- 
our, virtue,  reputation,  and  fortune,  "  flung  her  like  a 
worthless  weed  away,"  and  left  her  to  perish  by  the 
roadside. 


HASCHBASCH, 

THE      PEARL-DIVER. 


HASCHBASCH, 

THE      PEARL-DIYER. 


Haschbasch  was  held,  by  general  consent,  the  best 
diver  in  all  the  Gulf  of  Ormuz.  He  would  plunge 
deeper,  stay  longer,  and  come  up  drier  than  any  half- 
horse-half-alligator  in  the  whole  western  hemisphere. 
But,  somehow  or  other,  he  was  always  unsuccessful ; 
if  he  brought  up  both  hands  full  of  oysters,  ten  to  one 
they  did  not  contain  a  pearl ;  so  that  at  last  he  got  to 
be  a  byword  among  his  fellows,  who  used  to  call  an 
oyster  without  a  pearl,  "  one  of  Haschbasch's  oysters." 

One  day,  after  frequent  disappointments  in  diving, 
he,  in  a  fit  of  despair,  threw  an  oyster,  which  he  knew 
was  too  plump  and  healthy  to  have  any  pearls  in  it, 
so  violently  against  a  rock  hard  by,  that  it  broke  the 
shell;  whereupon  he  was  not  only  astonished,  but 
alarmed,  to  see  a  volume  of  smoke  ascending  from 
the  fragments.  As  it  gradually  cleared  away,  he  be- 
held a  little  squab  genius,  with  an  oyster  knife  in  his 
hand,  and  so  fat  that  he  might  well  have  passed  for 
the  personification  of  a  veritable  Blue-Pointer. 

Haschbasch  contemplated  the  droll  figure  till  he 
recovered  from  his  terror,  and  fell  to  laughing  with 
all  his  might.     At  length  he  exclaimed. 


364  HASCHBASCH,   THE   PEARL-DIVER. 

"  Who  art  thou,  and  whence  didst  thou  come  ?  " 

"  I  am  the  Genius  of  Oysters,"  replied  the  strange 
little  man,  "  and  I  came  from  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 
How  daredst  thou  break  my  palace  in  this  rude  man- 
ner?" 

Haschbasch  apologized  very  respectfully,  and  ex- 
plained the  cause  of  his  violence,  at  the  same  time 
appealing  to  his  compassion  for  pardon. 

"  Thou  lookest  so  round  and  jolly,"  said  he,  "  I  am 
sure  thou  must  be  good-natured.  I  never  heard  of 
such  a  person  that  was  otherwise." 

"  Well,"  said  the  placable  genius,  "  I  will  not  be  an 
exception.  I  forgive  thee ;  nay,  I  will  reward  thee ; 
for,  between  ourselves,  I  was  a  prisoner  when  thou 
didst  release  me.  I  was  shut  up  by  a  tyrannical  ne- 
cromancer of  an  alderman,  for  eating  oysters  in  a 
month  that  had  no  r  in  it.  I  owe  thee  a  good  turn  — 
dive  just  where  I  throw  this." 

So  saying,  he  Hung  a  chip  into  the  sea,  and  Hasch- 
basch obeyed  his  commands.  The  queer  genius  swal- 
lowed the  contents  of  the  broken  oyster  at  one  gulp, 
and,  waddling  down  to  the  wave,  disappeared  in  its 
blue  bosom. 

In  a  few  minutes  Haschbasch  came  up  with  both 
hands  full  of  oysters,  each  of  which,  on  being  opened, 
was  found  to   contain  a  pearl  as  big  as  a  pigeon's 

At  that  moment  the  genius  emerged  from  the  waters, 
and,  after  puffing  like  a  porpoise,  exclaimed,  "  Go  to 
Ispahan ; "  and  again  vanished,  having  only  come  up 
to  take  a  mouthful  of  air. 

Haschbasch  concealed  his  prize  from  every  eye,  and 
shut  his  lips  on  the  subject  as  close  as  an  oyster.     He 


HASCHBASCH,    THE   PEARL-DIVER.  365 

took  leave  of  little  Flimflam,  the  black-eyed  daughter 
of  the  collector  of  the  schah's  tribute,  (who,  if  he  had 
dreamed  of  the  large  pearls,  would  have  had  his  head 
off  in  less  than  no  time),  and,  promising  soon  to  re- 
turn, departed  for  the  renowned  city  of  Ispahan,  where 
Schah  Hussein,  who  called  himself  the  "king  of  kings," 
then  reigned,  if  not  in  the  affections,  at  least  in  the 
fears  of  his  people. 

Haschbasch,  after  considering  a  day  or  two  con- 
cerning the  best  manner  of  disposing  of  his  treasure 
on  his  arrival  at  Ispahan,  at  length  determined  upon 
going  to  the  fountain-head  at  once.  We  know  not 
where  he  got  his  experience,  but  he  had  somehow 
found  out  that  in  matters  of  business  it  was  always 
best  to  deal  with  principals. 

Accordingly,  one  day  when  the  great  "  king  of 
kings  "  was  amusing  his  people  with  the  royal  farce 
of,  "  pride  in  the  garb  of  humility,"  and  listening  very 
condescendingly  to  petitions  he  forgot  the  next  mo- 
ment, Haschbasch  threw  himself  on  his  face,  licked  a 
reasonable  quantity  of  dust,  and  in  tones  and  words 
of  genuine  Eastern  humility  begged  an  audience  of, 
the  vicegerent  of  Allah,  the  master  of  the  universe, 
and  the  example  of  the  angels. 

Schah  Hussein  was  tickled  at  these  new  and  illus- 
trious titles,  which  he  thought  were  peculiarly  appli- 
cable to  him,  above  all  his  predecessors,  not  excepting 
the  great  Rustan  himself,  who  is  celebrated  in  the 
"  Epic  of  Ferdousi,"  which  contains  twenty  thou- 
sand bad  verses.  He  ordered  Haschbasch  to  wait 
the  conclusion  of  the  farce,  and  then  attend  him  at 
the  palace. 

The  diver  crawled  after  him  to  his  royal  residence. 


366  HASCHBASCH, 

and,  being  admitted  on  all  fours,  most  submissively- 
petitioned  for  a  private  interview,  on  a  matter  of  the 
utmost  consequence.  He  did  not  forget  to  conclude 
by  calling  the  schah,  as  before,  "  vicegerent  of  Allah, 
master  of  the  universe,  and  example  of  the  angels." 
The  schah  was  melted  into  comj)liance,  and  beckoned 
him  to  follow  to  his  private  apartment. 

When  there,  Haschbasch  prostrated  himself  three 
hundred  and  sixty-five  times,  the  vicegerent  counting 
all  the  while  with  his  fingers. 

"  Well,  slave,"  cried  the  schah,  "  what  would  thy 
insolent  presumption  have  ?  Take  notice,  if  tliy  busi- 
ness is  not  of  sullicient  moment  to  excuse  thy  bold 
request,  thou  art  as  dead  as  the  man  who  offended  me 
yesterday  by  sneezing  in  the  midst  of  a  speech  I  was 
making  to  the  representative  of  the  Giaours,  who 
came  to  offer  me  tribute." 

Haschbasch  thought  he  had  got  himself  into  a  pretty 
predicament,  and  trembled  so  that  he  could  scarcely 
find  the  pearl  as  big  as  a  pigeon's  egg^  which  he  had 
brought  with  him.  The  schah  began  to  be  alarmed, 
lest  he  should  be  fumbling  for  a  dagger  to  despatch 
Mm ;  and  was  just  on  the  point  of  calling  for  help, 
when  he  was  struck  almost  dumb  by  the  sight  of  the 
magnificent  bawble. 

"  Allah !  "  cried  he,  snatching  it  out  of  the  hands  of 
the  shivering  diver  —  "  Allah!  can  I  believe  my  eyes! 
Is  it  not  the  ghost,  the  shadow,  the  counterfeit  of  a 
real  pearl  ?  If  it  be,  slave,  tremble !  for  thy  life  shall 
pay  the  forfeit  of  my  disappointment.  Hast  thou  any 
more  like  this  ?  " 

Haschbasch  assured  him  there  was  not  such  another 
in  the  world,  and  that  it  was  genuine. 


367 


The  schah,  on  comparing  it  with  some  which  he 
wore  about  him,  became  satisfied.  He  debated  in  his 
own  mind  whether  to  purchase  it  at  any  price,  or  make 
short  work  of  the  affair,  by  cutting  off  Haschbasch's 
head  and  becoming  his  heir  according  to  the  laws 
and  customs  of  Persia,  that  is  to  say,  the  will  of  the 
"  king  of  kings." 

Justice,  however,  prevailed.  He  recollected  the 
charming  titles  Haschbach  had  bestowed  upon  him, 
and  that  he  had  thus  enabled  him  to  triumph  over 
his  barbarian  neighbour,  the  Giaour  of  Russia,  who 
had  just  drubbed  him  soundly,  and  possessed  himself 
of  two  or  three  of  his  finest  provinces. 

"  He  has  not  such  a  pearl  in  his  diadem ! "  exclaimed 
he,  mentally.  —  "  What  is  thy  price  for  this  treasure  ? 
Quick  —  tell  me  this  instant,  or — " 

"Example  of  the  angels  I",  cried  Haschbasch,  "a 
mere  ti'ifle  —  nothing  but  to  make  me  governor  of  the 
city,  with  the  title  of  prince,  and  appoint  a  deputy  to 
do  the  drudgery,  while  I  pocket  the  honours  and  the 
money." 

"  Thou  art  the  most  reasonable  of  slaves,"  cried  the 
schah  in  transport ;  "  I  would  have  given  thee  the  city, 
and  all  the  inhabitants  for  slaves,  rather  than  have 
missed  this  opportunity  to  eclipse  the  barbarian 
Giaour.     Give  me  the  pearl,  and  take  thy  wish." 

The  bargain  was  struck,  and  Haschbasch  departed, 
governor  of  Ispahan,  and  a  prince.  The  next  day  he 
took  possession  of  his  post,  and  appeared  in  a  turban 
as  large  as  a  small  balloon.  The  people  neither  missed 
their  old  governor,  who  had  met  the  destiny  of  the 
bowstring,  nor  wondered  at  their  new.  They  were 
used  to  such  matters. 


368  HASCHBASCH,   THE   PEARL-DIVER. 

Haschbasch  was  a  tolerable  ruler,  as  times  go.  He 
made  a  number  of  wise  regulations,  which  he  forgot 
to  see  put  into  execution ;  and  issued  a  vast  quantity 
of  proclamations,  to  which  nobody  paid  the  least  at- 
tention. However,  he  boasted  of  the  reformation  he 
had  brought  about,  and  smoked  a  golden  pipe,  eighteen 
feet  long,  with  entire  satisfaction.  His  deputy  was 
a  capital  fellow :  according  to  contract,  he  did  all  his 
excellency's  work  for  him  —  but  he  did  not  give  him 
all  the  money.  He  thought  he  had  a  right  to  a 
trifle  of  sly  bribery  and  extortion,  on  his  own  proper 
account  —  and  what  deputy  can  blame  him? 

Haschbasch  for  a  while  was  as  happy  as  a  little 
king;  nay,  much  happier  than  a  little  king  in  these 
degenerate  days.  Nobody  troubled  him  with  protocols, 
and  non-intervention.  He  had  his  dancing-girls,  his 
story-tellers,  his  poets,  and  his  parasites,  who  swore 
by  Allah  he  was  fit  to  be  Schah  of  Persia.  He  ate 
hugely  of  the  richest  viands  ;  he  drank,  under  the  rose, 
wine  dearer  than  Chateau  JNIargaux ;  he  sung  odes  of 
Hafiz,  till  he  could  neither  see  nor  hear ;  and,  in  time, 
he  waxed  as  fat  as  the  Genius  of  Oysters. 

But  —  alas!  that  mortal  man  cannot  enjoy  all  these 
things  without  paying  more  for  them  than  they  are 
worth  I  —  Haschbasch  began  to  be  sleepy  all  day,  and 
wakeful  all  night.  His  deputy  took  upon  him  all  the 
duties  of  his  principal,  and  Haschbasch  could  not  eat, 
and  drink,  and  sing  odes,  and  admire  the  dancing- 
girls  for  ever.  He  sometimes  longed  for  a  dive,  by 
way  of  variety,  even  though  he  should  bring  up  noth- 
ing but  oysters  without  any  pearls. 

One  hot,  debilitating  day,  he  sat  in  a  listless,  tedious, 
laborious  sort  of  apathy,  in  a  cool  gallery  that  over- 


HASCHBASCH,   THE    PEARL-DIVER.  369 

looked  the  street.  He  yawned  once,  twice,  thrice,  and 
at  length  exclaimed,  audibly,  though  almost  uncon- 
sciously, to  himself, 

"  Oh,  Allah !  if  I  only  had  something  to  do  I " 

"  Oh,  Mohammed !  if  I  only  had  nothing  to  do ! " 
answered  a  voice  in  the  street,  directly  under  the  gal- 
lery. 

He  looked  down,  and  beheld  a  diminutive  hunch- 
back of  a  fellow,  about  four  feet  high,  and  as  crooked 
as  a  ram's  horn,  bending  under  two  heavy  buckets. 

"  Who  art  thou  ?  cried  Haschbasch,  rubbing  his 
eyes. 

"  Buzbuz,  the  water-carrier,"  replied  the  other. 

"  What  wouldst  thou  ?  " 

"  I  should  like  to  be  a  governor.  Thou  saidst  just 
now,  thou  didst  want  something  to  do,  and  I  want 
nothing  to  do.  Let  us  exchange,  and  each  will  have 
his  wish." 

"  Thou  art  a  merry  slave.  I  cannot  give  thee  my 
office,  but  I  constitute  thee  my  jester.  Thou  shalt 
make  me  laugh,  and  I  will  make  a  man  of  thee.  Come 
hither." 

"  Thou  must  add  a  cubit  to  my  stature  before  thou 
canst  do  that ;  however,  I  accept  thy  offer,  and,  if  thou 
only  knewest  how  lazy  I  am,  thou  wouldst  pity  me." 

Buzbuz  proved  an  invaluable  auxiliary  in  assisting 
Haschbasch  to  kill  time.  His  spirits  were  inexhaust- 
ible ;  and,  if  not  always  witty,  he  never  lacked  iin})u- 
dence,  which  sometimes  does  just  as  well.  At  length 
Haschbasch  willed  him  to  give  some  account  of  him- 
self. 

"  I  was  born  crooked,  as  thou  seest  me  now,"  said 
he,  "  which  was  a  great  happiness ;  for  I  never  knew 

24 


370  HASCHBASCH, 

what  it  was  to  be  straight,  and  therefore  escaped  the 
curse  of  being  miserable  by  comparison.  I  was  ap- 
prenticed to  a  water-carrier,  who  made  me  carry  twice 
as  much  as  other  people,  because,  as  he  wisely  said, 
there  was  no  danger  of  spoiling  my  shape;  and  I  was 
just  on  the  point  of  trying  to  better  my  fortune,  by 
making  the  most  of  my  figure  in  a  matrimonial  specu- 
lation, when  your  highness  had  the  good-fortune  to 
take  me  into  your  service.  Such  is  my  history ;  now, 
tell  me  thine.  I  bet  my  old  buckets  against  thy  turban, 
thou  hast  been  a  diver  in  thy  time." 

"  Why  so  ?  "  said  Haschbasch,  somewhat  startled. 

''  Why,  because  thou  art  always  bobbing  thy  head, 
as  if  thou  wast  going  to  plunge  into  the  water." 

"  Thou  art  a  sage,"  said  the  governor,  and  related 
his  story,  substituting  a  single  pearl  for  the  handful 
he  had  acquired  through  the  favour  of  the  Genius  of 
Oysters. 

"  Oh  Prophet ! "  exclaimed  Buzbuz,  "  what  is  the 
difference  between  a  pearl-diver  and  a*  water-carrier, 
that  thou  shouldst  make  a  governor  of  the  one  and  a 
jester  of  the  other?  Destiny,  destiny,  thou  art  more 
blind  than  a  bat —  she  at  least  sees  in  the  dark." 

Haschbasch  laughed  at  this  sally ;  but  he  soon  had 
cause  to  repent  of  the  disclosure  of  his  early  life. 
Buzbuz  was  continually  joking  about  his  former  call- 
ing; and,  though  he  always  did  it  when  they  were 
alone  together,  it  was  not  relished.  Haschbasch  loved 
to  hear  others  made  game  of,  but  to  be  made  game  of 
himself  was  quite  a  different  affair. 

On  one  occasion,  the  great  mufti  of  Ispahan,  a  sort 
of  Mohammedan  archbishop,  came  to  visit  Hasch- 
basch in  state,  to  negotiate  a  marriage  between  the 


371 


governor  and  his  niece,  who  was  a  first-rate  beauty, 
and  very  fond  of  hearing  the  odes  of  Hafiz.  There 
was  any  quantity  of  ceremony  between  them,  and  the 
matter  was  finally  settled. 

"  Thou  didst  bow  to  the  great  mufti  just  as  if  thou 
wert  going  to  take  a  dive  for  pearls,"  said  Buzbuz 
when  he  was  gone,  laughing  ready  to  kill  himself. 
But  he  soon  laughed  on  the  wrong  side  of  his  mouth. 
The  governor  became  wroth  at  length,  at  being  so 
frequently  reminded  of  his  profession,  and  turned  his 
jester  neck  and  heels  into  the  street. 

"  Never  mind,"  quoth  Buzbuz,  as  he  took  up  his  old 
buckets  —  "never  mind;  from  the  capital  jester  to  a 
dull  governor,  I  am  become  a  poor  water-carrier,  once 
more ;  who  knows  but,  from  a  stupid  governor,  thou 
mayst  become  a  half-starved  pearl-diver  again." 

"  Off  with  his  head  I  "  cried  Haschbasch,  like  King 
Dick  in  the  tragedy.  But  the  carrier  disappeared  in 
a  twinkling,  and  he  never  laid  eyes  on  him  again. 

The  marriage  of  Haschbasch  and  the  niece  of  the 
great  mufti  took  place  shortly  afterwards ;  and,  for  a 
few  days,  he  was  the  happiest  of  all  governors,  except 
the  fifovernor  of  one  of  the  "  old  thirteen."  But  his 
wife,  whose  name  was  Fatima,  was  a  perfect  Mrs. 
Bluebeard  for  curiosity.  She  ransacked  every  hole 
and  corner  of  the  house,  to  see  what  was  in  it ;  and 
nothing  bafiled  her  but  a  small  box  of  gold,  so  massy 
she  could  not  break  it  open,  and  so  fastened  that  she 
could  not  come  at  the  secret. 

The  next  day,  the  next,  and  the  next,  she  was  ob- 
served to  be  low-spirited,  and  her  low-spirits  increased 
with  every  passing  hour.  Haschbasch  sometimes 
found  her  in  tears,  which  he  kissed  away  ;  but,  though 


372 


this  act  of  kindness  ought  to  have  stopped  the  tears 
of  any  reasonable  woman,  those  of  Fatima  only  flowed 
the  faster.  Haschbasch  conjured  her  to  tell  him  the 
cause  of  her  sorrows ;  but  she  shook  her  head  mourn- 
fully, and  sobbed  out, 

"  Thou-ou-ou  —  do-do-dost  not  —  lo-v-v-e  —  me  — 
ech  !  "  —  and  her  heart  seemed  almost  ready  to  break. 

The  governor  swore  by  the  sacred  camel  of  Moham- 
med, and  by  the  white  beard  of  her  uncle  the  mufti 
which  was  not  half  so  white  as  her  fair  neck,  that  he 
loved  her  better  than  his  office.  But  even  this  did 
not  satisfy  her,  and  in  less  than  a  week  she  took  to 
her  bed. 

Poor  Haschbasch  was  almost  distracted.  He  went 
to  her,  and,  kneeling  at  her  bedside,  or  rather  —  to  be 
orientally  orthodox  and  particular —  at  the  side  of  her 
couch,  swore  by  the  Prophet,  that  there  was  nothing 
on  the  face  of  the  earth  he  would  not  do  to  convince 
her  of  his  affection. 

"  Tell  me,  tell  me,"  said  Fatima,  in  a  weak  and 
plaintive  voice,  —  "  what  is  contained  in  the  little  gold 
box  thou  keepest  so  carefully  closed  from  thy  devoted 
wife  ?  " 

"  Beard  of  the  Prophet  I "  exclaimed  the  husband, 
"  how  didst  thou  come  to  know  of  that  box  ?  " 

"  By  accident,  lord  of  my  soul,"  said  Fatima ;  "  but 
thou  hast  sworn,  and  here  I  promise  to  be  a  happy 
and  obedient  slave  to  thee  if  thou  wilt  open  it  in  my 
presence." 

Haschbasch  dared  not  break  his  oath.  Turninof  all 
the  attendants  out  of  the  room,  he  proceeded  to  the 
secret  depository,  brought  back  the  box,  and  touched 
the   unseen    spring.     His  wife    shrieked,  clasped  her 


THE   PEARL-DIVER.  373 

hands,  and  almost  fainted  at  the  sight  of  a  dozen 
pearls  as  large  as  pigeons'  eggs.  She  was  never  tired 
of  handling  and  admiring  them  ;  and  the  governor  was 
at  length  obliged  to  force  them  from  her,  which  occa- 
sioned a  paroxysm  of  her  old  disorder. 

Her  illness  increased  every  hour,  until  Haschbasch 
again  became  alarmed,  and  was  wrought  upon  to 
make  her  the  same  rash  promise,  and  with  the  same 
rash  sanction,  as  before. 

The  lady  took  him  at  his  word,  and  demanded  her 
choice  of  the  beautiful  pearls.  Haschbasch  trembled, 
and  obeyed ;  but,  ere  he  did  so,  he  related  the  history 
of  the  bargain  with  the  schah,  to  whom  he  had  sold  a 
similar  pearl,  under  a  solemn  assurance  that  it  was 
the  only  one  of  its  kind  in  the  universe. 

"  My  office,  nay,  my  head,  will  pay  the  forfeit  of  the 
discovery  of  this  falsehood.  Take  thy  choice ;  but, 
before  thou  dost  so,  promise  to  me,  on  thy  duty  as  a 
wife,  thy  faith  as  a  true  believer,  that  thou  wilt  never 
wear  this  bawble,  nor  disclose  to  any  living  being  that 
it  is  in  thy  possession." 

Fatima  complied,  the  pearl  became  her  own,  and 
her  health  was  restored,  as  if  by  miracle.  The  old 
mufti  ascribed  it  to  his  prayers  and  a  vow  to  get  up 
a  grand  pilgrimage  to  Mecca  if  his  niece  recovered. 
Nothing  could  equal  the  childish  delight  of  the  gover- 
nor's lady,  in  the  possession  of  a  pearl  as  large  and 
as  perfect  as  that  of  the  great  schah  himself.  She 
looked  at  it  ten  hours  every  day,  and  it  seemed  as  if 
she  would  never  be  tired  of  admiring  it.  The  thought, 
however,  at  last  struck  her,  on  a  sudden,  that  there 
was  little  pleasure  in  its  possession  so  long  as  nobody 
knew  of  it.     She  might  as  well  not  have  it  at  all. 


374  HASCHBASCH,   THE   PEARL-DIVER. 


From  that  moment  she  began  to  be  unhappy.  One 
day,  the  clearest  friend  she  had  in  the  world  called  to 
see  her,  wearing  a  beautiful  amethyst  her  husband 
had  just  presented  her. 

"  If  I  could  only  show  her  my  pearl,  as  large  as  a 
pigeon's  egg  and  as  white  as  the  beard  of  the  mufti, 
how  blue  she  would  look,"  thought  Fatima. 

The  temptation  was  irresistible.  After  exacting  a 
solemn  pledge  of  secrecy,  she  exhibited  the  inestima- 
ble treasure  to  her  friend,  who  almost  fainted  at  the 
sight. 

"  She  will  tell  some  of  her  acquaintances,"  thought 
Fatima,  "  who  will  tell  it  to  others  ;  and  it  will  soon 
be  known,  I  hope.  A  fig  for  the  schah,  and  the  terrors 
of  the  governor." 

But  her  friend  was  faithful  to  her  word,  and  poor 
Fatima  was  sorely  disappointed.  A  grand  festival 
was  now  at  hand,  and  she  determined,  at  all  risks,  to 
exhibit  her  pearl  to  the  eyes  of  all  but  the  schah,  who 
would  thus,  in  all  probability,  remain  ignorant  of  the 
deception  practised  by  Haschbasch.  On  that  unlucky 
day  the  governor  was  somewhat  indisposed,  and  did 
not  attend  the  ceremony,  at  which  the  schah  himself 
officiated.  Fatima,  thus  freed  from  the  controlling 
eye  of  her  husband,  dressed  herself  in  all  the  splen- 
dours of  Eastern  vanity,  and  placed  the  pearl  in  the 
centre  of  a  turban,  glittering  with  gold  and  precious 
stones. 

Great  was  the  envy  and  admiration  excited  by  the 
jewel,  and  millions  of  questions  were  asked  of  Fatima 
concerning  its  origin  and  history  ;  but  she  kept  the 
secret,  and  her  imprudence  might  possibly  have  passed 
without  any  serious  consequences,  had  not  the  whis- 


375 


pers  of  admiration  reached  the  ears  of  the  schah,  who 
demanded  a  sight  of  the  wonderful  bawble.  Fatima 
advanced,  trembling  like  an  aspen  leaf,  and  the  schah 
turned  pale  with  rage.  He  snatched  the  pearl  from 
her  turban,  and  compared  it  with  his  own.  It  was 
equally  large  and  equally  beautiful,  and  the  passion 
of  the  schah  persuaded  him  it  was  actually  superior 
in  both  respects. 

"  Slave  !  "  cried  he,  most  ungallantly,  —  "  slave  ! 
whence  came  this  pearl  ?  " 

"  My  husband  gave  it  me,"  answered  she,  sinking  at 
his  feet. 

"  And  where  is  the  slave,  the  traitor  ?  why  is  he  not 
here  ?  " 

"  He  is  gone  to  fulfil  a  vow  at  the  mosque,  without 
the  city,  for  the  recovery  of  his  health,"  said  the  poor 
wife,  resolved  to  make  one  effort  for  the  safety  of  the 
governor. 

"  Follow  him,  and  drag  him  hither  alive,  to  answer 
for  deceiving  the  vicegerent  of  Allah,"  exclaimed  the 
schah. 

The  unhappy  Fatima  was  permitted  to  go  home, 
which  she  did  as  fast  as  possible.  In  agitated  haste 
she  met  her  husband,  bidding  him  fly  for  his  life  with- 
out further  explanation,  for  not  a  moment  was  to  be 
lost.  Disguising  themselves,  they  mounted  a  pair  of 
swift  horses,  and,  taking  an  opposite  direction  from 
the  mosque  whither  the  guards  of  the  sultan  had  gone 
in  search  of  Haschbasch,  fled  towards  Ormuz  like 
chaff  before  the  Aviiid.  Fatima,  in  the  midst  of  her 
troubles,  did  not  forget  to  secure  the  gold  box  and  the 
beautiful  pearls. 

Favoured  by  their  disguise  and  a  series  of  lucky 


376 

accidents,  they  arrived  in  safety  at  the  Gulf  of  Ormuz, 
among  the  old  friends  and  associates  of  the  diver. 

"  Welcome,  Haschbasch  !  ",  exclaimed  they. 

"  And  welcome  poverty  !  ",  cried  Haschbasch,  as  he 
entered  his  native  cottage,  now  somewhat  out  of  re- 
pair; "  I  will  be  a  diver  for  pearls,  again." 

"  A  diver  for  nonsense  I "  cried  Fatima.  "  Look 
here  I  "  —  and  she  produced  the  golden  box  containing 
the  pearls  as  big  as  pigeons'  eggs. 

"  Curse  them  I "  cried  he,  snatching  it  out  of  her 
hand,  and  fleeing  towards  the  shores  of  the  gulf  so 
swiftly,  that  Fatima,  who  was  a  Mohammedan  beauty, 
and  somewhat  lusty,  could  not  overtake  him.  He 
arrived  at  the  spot  where  he  had  seen  the  genius,  and, 
opening  the  box,  throw  the  pearls,  one  by  one,  against 
the  same  rock  on  which  he  had  broken  the  oyster,  so 
violently  that  they  were  all  dashed  to  pieces. 

He  had  no  sooner  finished  the  last  than  a  smoke, 
such  as  he  had  formerly  seen,  rose  in  the  same  spot, 
and,  as  it  slowly  dissipated,  he  again  recognised  the 
little  fat  Genius  of  Oysters,  as  jolly  and  round  as 
ever ;  for,  be  it  remembered,  it  was  now  the  month  of 
October,  and  his  old  enemy,  the  necromantic  alder- 
man, could  not  prevent  his  eating  his  fill  according  to 
law. 

"  Thou  seest  I  am  better  lodged  than  I  was,  the  last 
time  we  met.  But  what  is  the  matter,  and  what  brings 
thee  here  ?  "  said  the  genius. 

Haschbasch  told  the  whole  story,  and  concluded  by 
reproaching  the  genius  for  sending  him  to  Ispahan 
with  such  a  fatal  gift. 

"  I  have  scarcely  had  a  comfortable  moment,"  said 
he,  "  since  I  possessed  those  accursed  pearls." 


THE    PEARL-DIVER.  bil 

"  I  can  only  give  the  means  of  happiness,"  answered 
the  genius,  "not  happiness  itself;  that  depends  upon 
thyself.  Go,  and  be  a  diver  again  ;  and,  if  thou  art 
content  with  thy  lot,  thou  mayst  be  happy."  So  say- 
ing, he  disappeared  for  ever  in  the  blue  waters,  and 
Haschbasch  returned  home. 

Fatima  scolded  him  for  destroying  the  pearls,  but 
she  w^as  a  good-natured  soul,  and  soon  forgave  him, 
and  loved  him  better  than  when  he  was  a  governor 
and  a  prince. 

On  the  return  of  Haschbasch  with  a  wife,  his  old 
sweetheart  had  murmured  a  little.  He  took  her  to 
himself  as  a  second  helpmate,  and  Fatima  and  little 
Flimflam  lived  together  in  perfect  harmony.  What  a 
peace-making  religion  is  that  of  Mohammed ! 


KILLING,    NO    MURDER. 


KILLING,    NO    MURDEE. 

A     TRUE     STORY. 


I  AM  a  sober,  middle-aged,  married  gentleman,  of 
a  moderate  size ;  with,  moderate  wishes,  moderate 
means,  a  moderate  family,  and  everything  moderate 
about  me,  except  my  house,  which  is  too  large  for  my 
means,  or  my  family.  It  is,  however,  or  rather,  alas ! 
it  was,  an  old  family  mansion,  full  of  old  things  of  no 
value  but  to  the  owner,  as  connected  with  early  asso- 
ciations and  ancient  friends,  and  I  did  not  like  the 
idea  of  converting  it  into  a  tavern  or  boarding-house, 
as  is  the  fashion  with  the  young  heirs  of  the  present 
day.  Such  as  it  was,  however,  although  I  sometimes 
felt  a  little  like  the  ambitious  snail  who  once  crept 
into  a  lobster's  shell  and  came  near  perishing  in  a 
hard  winter,  I  managed  for  ten  or  twelve  years  to  live 
in  it  very  comfortably,  and  to  make  both  ends  meet. 
My  furniture,  to  be  sure,  was  a  little  out  of  fashion, 
and  here  and  there  a  little  out  at  the  elbows ;  but  I 
always  persuaded  myself  that  it  was  respectable  to  be 
out  of  fashion,  and  that  new  things  smacked  of  new 
men,  and  were,  therefore,  rather  vulgar.  Under  this 
impression,  I  lived  in  my  old  house,  with  my  old-fash- 


ioned  furniture,  moderate-sized  family,  and  moderate 
means,  envying  nobody  and  indebted  to  no  one  in  the 
world.  I  had  neither  gilded  furniture,  nor  grand 
mantel-glasses,  nor  superb  chandeliers  ;  but  then  I  had 
a  few  fine  pictures  and  busts,  and  flattered  myself 
they  were  much  more  genteel  than  gilded  furniture, 
grand  mantel-glasses,  and  superb  chandeliers.  In  truth, 
I  looked  down  with  contempt  not  only  on  these,  but 
on  all  those  who  did  not  agree  with  me  in  opinion.  I 
never  asked  a  person  to  dinner  a  second  time  who 
did  not  admire  my  busts  and  pictures,  considering 
him  a  vulgar  fellow  and  an  admirer  of  ostentatious 
trumpery. 

But  let  no  man  presume,  after  reading  my  story,  to 
flatter  himself  he  is  out  of  the  reach  of  the  infection 
of  fashion  and  fashionable  opinions.  He  may  hold 
out  for  a  certain  time,  perhaps,  but  human  nature 
can't  stand  forever  on  the  defensive.  The  example 
of  all  around  us  is  irresistible,  sooner  or  later.  The 
first  shock  given  to  my  attachment  to  respectable  old- 
fashioned  furniture  and  a  respectable  old  foursquare 
double  house  was  received  from  the  elbow  of  a  mod- 
ern worthy,  who  had  grown  rich,  nobody  knew  how, 
by  presiding  over  the  drawing  of  lotteries,  and  who 
came  and  built  himself  a  narrow  four-story  house 
right  at  the  side  of  my  honest  foursquare  double  man- 
sion. It  had  white  marble  steps,  white  marble  door 
and  window  sills,  folding  doors  and  marble  mantel- 
pieces, and  was  as  fine  as  a  fiddle,  within  and  without. 
It  put  my  rusty  old  mansion  quite  out  of  counte- 
nance, as  everybody  told  me,  though  I  assure  my 
readers  I  thought  it  excessively  tawdry  and  in  bad 
taste. 


;83 


But,  alas  !  —  such  is  the  stupidity  of  mankind  —  I 
could  get  nobody  to  agree  with  me. 

"  What  has  come  over  your  house,  lately  ?  "  cried 
one  good-natured  visitor ;  "  somehow  or  other  it  don't 
look  as  it  used  to  do." 

"  What  makes  your  house  seem  so  rusty  and  old- 
fashioned  ?  "  said  another  good-natured  visitor. 

"  Mr.  Blankprize  has  taken  the  shine  off  of  you," 
said  INIrs.  Sowerby ;  "  he  has  killed  your  house  !  " 

Hereupon  the  spirit  moved  me  to  go  out  and  rec- 
onnoitre the  venerable  mansion.  It  certainly  did  look 
a  little  like  a  chubby,  rusty,  old-fashioned  Quaker  by 
the  side  of  a  first-rate  dandy.  I  picked  a  quarrel 
with  it  outright,  which,  by  the  way,  was  a  very  un- 
lucky quarrel.  I  was  not  rich  enough  to  pull  it  down 
and  build  a  new  one  ;  and  it  is  great  folly  to  quarrel 
with  an  old  house  until  you  can  get  a  better.  But  if 
I  can't  build,  I  can  paint,  thought  I,  and  put  at  least 
as  good  a  face  on  the  matter  as  this  opulent  lottery- 
man,  my  next-door  neighbour.  Accordingly,  I  consult- 
ed my  wife  on  the  subject,  who,  whether  from  a  spirit 
of  contradiction,  or,  to  do  her  justice,  I  believe  from  a 
correct  and  rational  view  of  the  subject,  discouraged 
my  project.  I  was  only  the  more  determined.  So  I 
caused  my  honest  old  house  to  be  painted  a  bright 
cream  color,  that  it  might  hold  up  its  head  against  the 
scurvy  lottery-man. 

"Bless  me!"  quoth  Mrs.  Smith;  "what  is  the 
matter  with  this  room  ?  It  don't  look  as  it  used  to 
do." 

"  Why,  what  under  the  sun  have  you  done  to  this 
room  ?  "  cried  Mrs.  Brown. 

"  Protect  me  !  "    exclaimed  Mrs.  White ;   "  why,   I 


384  KILLING,   NO    MURDER. 

seem  to  have  got  into  a  strange  room.  What  is  the 
matter  ?  " 

"  You've  killed  the  inside  of  your  house,"  said 
Mrs.  Sowerby,  "  by  painting  the  outside  such  a  bright 
color." 

It  was  too  true ;  this  was  my  first  crime.  Would 
I  had  stopped  here  I  —  but  destiny  determined  other- 
wise. It  happened,  unfortunately,  that  my  front  par- 
lour carpet  was  of  a  yellow  ground.  It  was,  to  be  sure, 
somewhat  faded  by  time  and  use ;  but  it  comported 
very  well  with  the  unpretending  sobriety  of  the  out- 
side of  my  house,  under  the  old  regime.  But  the  case 
was  altered  now,  and  the  bright  cream  color  of  the 
outside  "/ji7M"  the  dingy  yellow  carpet  within.  So 
I  bought  a  new  carpet,  of  a  line  orange  ground,  deter- 
mined that  this  should  not  be  killed.  It  looked  very 
fine,  and  I  was  satisfied.  I  had  done  the  business 
effectually. 

"  Bless  my  soul ! "  cried  Mrs.  Smith ;  "  what  a 
sweet  pretty  carpet !  " 

"  Save  us !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Brown  ;  "  why,  you 
look  as  fine  as  twopence  !  " 

"  Protect  us ! "  cried  Mrs.  Sowerby ;  "  what  a  fashion- 
able affair  ! "  Then,  casting  a  knowing  look  around 
the  room,  she  added,  in  a  tone  of  hesitating  candor, 
"  But,  don't  you  think,   somehow  or  other,  IT  kills 

THE  curtains  ?  " 

Another  murder !  thought  I ;  —  wretch  that  I  am, 
what  have  I  done  ?  What  is  done  cannot  be  undone  ; 
but  I  can  remedy  the  affair.  So  I  bought  a  new  suit 
of  yellow  curtains.     I  thought  I  had  'em  now. 

Mrs.  Sowerby  came  the  very  next  day. 

"  Well,  I  declare,  now  this  is  charming  I     I  never 


385 

saw  more  tasty  curtains.      But,  my  dear  Mr.  Sober- 
sides, somehow  or  other,  don't  you  think  they  kill 

THE  WALLS  ?  " 

Murder  again  !  Killed,  four  lath-and-plaster  walls ! 
But  I'll  get  the  better  of  Mrs.  Sowerby  yet.  So  I  got 
the  walls  colored  as  bright  as  the  curtains,  and  bade 
her  defiance  in  my  heart  the  next  time  she  came. 

Mrs.  Sowerby  arrived  as  usual.  Her  whole  life 
was  spent  in  visiting  about  everywhere,  and  putting 
people  out  of  conceit  with  themselves. 

She  threw  up  her  eyes  and  hands.  "  Well,  I  de- 
clare. Ml'.  Sobersides,  you  have  done  wonders.  This 
is  the  real  French-white"  —  which,  by  the  way,  my 
unlearned  readers  should  know,  is  yellow.  "  But," 
continued  this  pestilent  woman,  "  don't  you  think  that 
these  bright-colored  walls  kill  the  chairs  ?  " 

Worse  and  worse !  Here  were  twelve  innocent  old 
arm-chairs,  with  yellow  satin  bottoms  and  backs,  mur- 
dered in  cold  blood,  by  four  unfeeling  French-white 
shiny  walls !  But  there  is  a  remedy  for  all  things  but 
death.  I  forthwith  procured  a  new  set  of  chairs  as 
yellow  as  custard,  and  snapped  my  fingers  in  triumph 
at  Mrs.  Sowerby  the  next  time  she  came. 

But,  alas !  what  are  all  the  towering  hopes  of  man  ? 
Dust,  ashes,  emptiness,  nothing.  Mrs.  Sowerby  was 
not  yet  satisfied.  She  thought  the  chairs  beauti- 
iful:  — 

"  But,  then,  my  dear  friend,"  said  she,  after  a  solemn 
and  appalling  pause,  "  my  dear  friend,  these  bright 
.yellow    satin     chairs     have     killed     the     picture- 

^  FRAMES." 

And  so  they  had,  as  dead  as  Julius  Caesar ;  the  pic- 
ture-frames looked  like  old  lumber  in  the  midst  of  all 

25 


386  KILLING,   NO   MURDER. 

my  improvements.  There  was  no  help  for  it,  and 
away  went  the  frames  to  Messrs.  Parker  and  Clover. 
In  good  time  they  came  back,  "  redeemed,  regener- 
ated, and  disenthralled."  I  was  so  satisfied  now  that 
there  was  nothing  left  in  my  parlour  to  be  killed,  that 
I  could  hardly  sleep  that  night,  so  impatient  was  I  to 
see   Mrs.  Sowerby. 

That  baleful  creature,  when  she  came  next  day, 
looked  round  in  evident  disappointment,  but  ex- 
claimed, with  great  appearance  of  cordiality, 

"  Well,  now  I  declare,  it's  all  perfect ;  there  is  not  a 
handsomer  room  in  town." 

Thank  heaven!  thought  I,  I  have  committed  no 
more  murders.  But  I  reckoned  without  my  host.  I 
was  destined  to  go  on  murdering,  in  spite  of  me. 
The  spring  was  now  coming  on,  and,  the  weather 
being  mild,  the  folding  doors  had  been  thrown  open 
between  the  front  and  back  parlours.  This  latter  was 
furnished  with  green,  somewhat  faded  I  confess.  I 
had  heretofore  considered  it  the  sanctum  sanctorum  of 
the  establishment.  It  was  only  used  on  extraordinary 
occasions,  such  as  Christmas  and  New- Year  days, 
when  all  the  family  dined  with  me,  bringing  their 
little  children  with  them  to  gormandize  themselves 
sick.  The  room  looked  very  well  by  itself;  but,  alas ! 
the  moment  Mrs.  Sowerby  caught  sight  of  it,  her  eye 
brightened  —  fatal  omen ! 

"  Why,  my  dear  Mr.  Sobersides,  what  has  got  into 
your  back  parlour?  It  used  to  be  so  genteel  and 
smart.  Why,  I  believe  I'm  losing  my  eyesight.  The 
green  carpet  and  curtains  look  quite  yellow,  I  think. 
O,  I  see  it  now  —  the  front  parlour  has  killed  the 

BACK  ONE !  " 


387 


The  dickens!  Here  was  another  pretty  piece  of 
business.  I  must  either  keep  the  door  shut  all  sum- 
mer and  be  roasted,  or  be  charged  with  killing  a 
whole  parlour  —  carpet,  curtains,  chairs,  sofas,  walls, 
and  all. 

It  would  be  a  mere  repetition  to  relate  how  this 
wicked  woman  again  led  me  on  from  one  murder  to 
another.  First  the  new  carpet  "  killed  "  the  curtains  ; 
then  the  new  curtains  "killed"  the  walls;  the  new 
painted  walls  "  killed "  the  old  satin  chairs ;  and  so, 
by  little  and  little,  all  my  honest  old  green  furniture 
went  the  way  of  the  honest  old  yellow. 

"  The  spell  is  broken  at  last,"  cried  I,  rubbing  my 
hands  in  ecstasy.  Neither  my  front  nor  back  parlour 
can  commit  any  more  assassinations.  Elated  with  the 
idea,  I  was  waiting  on  Mrs.  Sowerby  to  the  front  door, 
when  suddenly  she  stopped  short  at  the  foot  of  the 
old-fashioned  winding  staircase,  the  carpet  of  which, 
I  confess,  Avas  here  and  there  infested  with  that  mod- 
ern abomination  —  a  darn.  It  was,  moreover,  rather 
dingy  and  faded. 

"  Your  back  parlour  has  killed  your  hall,"  said 
Mrs.  Sowerby. 

And  so  it  had.  Coming  out  of  the  splendour  of  the 
former,  the  latter  had  the  same  effect  on  the  beholder 
as  a  bad  set  of  teeth  in  a  fine  face,  or  an  old  rusty 
iron  grate  in  a  handsome  room. 

I  began  to  be  desperate.  I  had  been  accessory  to 
so  many  cruel  murders  that  my  conscience  became 
seared,  and  I  went  on,  led  by  the  wiles  of  this  daugh- 
ter of  Satan,  to  murder  my  way  from  the  ground- 
floor  to  the  cockloft,  without  sparing  a  single  soul. 
Nothing  escaped  but  the  garret,  which,  having  been 


388  KILLING,    NO    MURDER. 

for  half  a  century  the  depository  of  all  our  broken  or 
banished  household  gods,  resembled  Hogarth's  picture 
of  the  "  End  of  the  World,"  and  defied  the  arts  of 
that  mischievous  monster,  Mrs.  Sowerby. 

My  house  was  now  fairly  revolutionized,  or  rather, 
reformed,  after  the  French  mode,  by  a  process  of  in- 
discriminate destruction. 

I  did  not,  like  Alexander,  after  having  thus  con- 
quered one  world,  sigh  for  another  to  conqiKT.  I  sat 
down  to  enjoy  my  victory  under  the  shade  of  my 
laurels.  But,  alas  I,  disappointment  ever  follows  at  the 
heels  of  fruition.  It  is  jileasant  to  dance,  until  we  come 
to  pay  the  piper.  By  the  time  custom  had  familiar- 
ized me  to  my  new  glories,  and  they  had  become 
somewhat  indifferent,  bills  came  pouring  in  by  dozens, 
and  it  was  impossible  to  kill  my  duns  as  I  had  done 
my  old  furniture,  except  by  paying  them,  a  mode  of 
destroving  these  troublesome  vermin  not  always  con- 
venient or  agreeable.  From  the  period  of  commen- 
cing housekeeping  until  now,  I  had  never  once  had 
occasion  to  put  off  the  payment  of  a  bill.  I  prided 
myself  on  always  paying  ready  money  for  everything, 
and  it  was  an  honest  pride.  I  can  hardly  express  the 
mortification  I  felt  at  being  now  occasionally  under 
the  necessity  of  giving  excuses  instead  of  money.  I 
had  a  miserable  invention  at  this  sort  of  work  of 
imagination,  and  sometimes,  when  more  than  usually 
barren,  I  got  into  a  passion,  which  is  a  common  shift 
of  people  when  they  don't  know  what  else  to  do. 
More  than  once  I  found  myself  suddenly  turning  a 
corner  in  a  great  hurry,  or  planting  myself  before  the 
window  of  a  picture-shop,  studying  it  very  atten- 
tively, so  as  not  to  notice  certain  persons,  the  very 


389 

sight  of  whom  is  always  painful  to  people  of  nice 
sensibility. 

Not  being  hardened  to  such  trifles  by  long  use,  I 
felt  rather  sore  and  irritable.  Under  the  old  regime  it 
had  always  been  a  pleasure  to  me  to  hear  a  ring  at 
the  door,  because  it  was  the  signal  for  an  agreeable 
visitor;  but  now  it  excited  disagreeable  apprehen- 
sions, and  sounded  like  the  knell  of  a  dun.  In  short, 
I  grew  crusty  and  fidgety  by  degrees,  insomuch  that 
Mrs.  Sowerby  often  exclaimed  :  — 

"  Why,  what  has  come  over  you,  Mr.  Sobersides  ? 
Why,  I  declare,  somehow  or  other  you  don't  seem  the 
same  man  you  used  to  be." 

I  could  have  answered,  "  The  new  Mr.  Sobersides 
has  killed  the  old  Mr.  Sobersides."  But  I  said  noth- 
ing, and  only  wished  her  up  in  the  garret,  among  the 
old  furniture. 

My  system  of  reform  produced  another  source  of 
worrying.  Hitherto  my  old  furniture  and  myself  had 
been  so  long  acquainted,  that  I  could  take  all  sorts  of 
liberties  with  it.  I  could  recline  on  the  sofas  of  an 
evening,  or  sit  on  one  of  the  old  chairs  and  cross  my 
legs  on  another,  without  the  least  ceremony.  But  now, 
forsooth !,  it  is  as  much  as  I  dare  do  to  sit  down  upon 
one  of  my  new  acquaintance ;  and  as  for  a  lounge  on 
the  sofa,  which  was  the  Cleopatra  for  which  I  would 
have  lost  the  world,  I  should  as  soon  think  of  taking 
a  nap  in  a  fine  lady's  sleeve.  As  to  my  little  ranti- 
pole  boys,  who  had  hitherto  feared  neither  carpet, 
chair,  nor  sofa,  they  have  at  length  been  schooled  into 
such  awe  of  finery,  that  they  walk  about  the  parlour 
on  tiptoe,  sit  on  the  edge  of  a  chair  with  trepidation, 
and  contemplate  the  sofas  at  a  distance  with  the  most 


390  KILLING,   NO   MURDER. 

profound  veneration,  as  unapproachable  divinities. 
To  cap  the  climax  of  my  ill-starred  follies,  my  easy- 
old-shoe  friends,  who  came  to  see  me  without  cere- 
mony because  they  felt  comfortable  and  welcome, 
have  gradually  become  shy  of  my  novel  magnifi- 
cence; and  the  last  of  them  was  the  other  evening 
fairly  looked  out  of  the  house  by  a  certain  person,  for 
spitting  accidentally  upon  a  new  brass  fender,  that 
shone  like  the  sun  at  noonday. 

I  might  hope  that  in  the  course  of  time  these  evils 
would  be  mitigated  by  the  furniture  growing  old  and 
sociable  by  degrees,  but  there  is  little  prospect  of  this, 
because  it  is  too  fine  for  common  use.  The  carpet  is 
always  protected  by  a  worn  crum-cloth,  full  of  holes 
and  stains;  the  sofas  and  chairs  arc  in  dingy  cover- 
sluts,  except  on  extraordinary  occasions,  and  I  fear 
they  will  last  forever  —  at  least,  longer  than  I  shall. 
I  sometimes  solace  myself  with  the  anticipation  that 
my  children  may  live  long  enough  to  sit  on  the  sofas 
with  impunity,  and  walk  on  the  carpet  without  going 
on  tiptoe. 

There  would  be  some  consolation  in  the  midst  of 
these  sore  evils  if  I  could  only  fix  the  reproach  of  them 
on  my  wife.  Many  philosophers  are  of  opinion,  that 
this  single  privilege  of  matrimony  is  more  than  equiva- 
lent to  all  the  rubs  and  disappointments  of  life  ;  and  I 
have  heard  a  very  wise  person  afiirm,  that  he  would  not 
mind  being  ruined,  at  all,  if  he  could  only  blame  his 
wife  for  it.  But  I  must  do  mine  the  justice  to  say, 
that  she  combated  Mrs.  Sowerby  gallantly,  and  threw 
every  obstacle  in  the  way  of  my  rash  improvements, 
advocating  the  cause  of  every  piece  of  old  furniture 
with  a  zeal  worthy  of  better  success.     I  alone  am  to 


391 


blame  in  having  yielded  to  the  temptations  of  that 
wicked  woman,  Mrs.  Sowerby ;  and,  as  a  man  who 
has  ruined  himself  by  his  own  imprudence  is  the  bet- 
ter qualified  for  giving  good  advice,  I  have  written 
this  sketch  of  my  own  history,  to  caution  all  honest, 
sober,  discreet  people  against  commencing  a  system 
of  reform  in  their  household.     Let  them  beware  op 

THE   FIRST   MUEDEE! 


SIX   WEEKS   IN    THE  MOON. 


SIX   WEEKS   IN   THE   MOON. 


From  my  earliest  recollection  I  have  felt  a  great 
disposition  to  travel,  which  I  inherit  from  my  mother, 
who  had  a  special  vocation  for  out-door  business,  and 
who  never  missed  a  camp-meeting,  an  execution,  or  a 
quilting-frolic.  So  strong  was  this  impulse,  which  I 
may  almost  call  instinctive,  that  I  remember  on  one 
occasion,  instead  of  going  to  school,  which  was  close 
by,  I  wandered  away  to  a  horse-race,  several  miles 
distant ;  and,  at  another  time,  being  sent  on  an  errand 
to  a  neighboring  grocery  store,  I  strolled  to  a  pond  a 
long  way  off,  where  I  amused  myself  with  skating  on 
a  pair  of  ox-bones.  In  short,  my  mother  was  at  last 
obliged  to  dress  me  in  petticoats,  to  prevent  my  stray- 
ing. This  passion  for  wandering  increased  as  I  grew 
up  to  manhood,  and  became  at  length  unconquerable, 
in  consequence  of  the  late  facilities  afforded  to  travel- 
jlers,  by  the  introduction  of  steam-boats  and  locomo- 
tives. For  my  part,  I  don't  see  how  it  is  possible  for 
any  rational,  intelligent  person  to  stand  still  in  this 
age  of  progress.  Even  my  grandmother  —  who  is 
now  fourscore,  and  so  afllicted  with  Neuralgia,  as  the 
doctors  call  it,  that  she  lies  in  bed  half  the  time  when 
at  home  —  goes  every  year  to  Wisconsin,  to  visit  a 


396  SIX   WEEKS   IN    THE   MOON. 

second  cousin ;    and  my  good  mother  often   travels 
thirty  miles,  to  drink  tea  and  discuss  women's  rights. 

On  arriving  at  the  age  of  twenty-one,  and  becom- 
ing my  own  master,  with  a  competent  fortune,  I 
determined  to  indulge  this  natural  propensity.  But 
an  unexpected  obstacle  presented  itself  at  the  outset. 
The  great  difficulty  was  to  find  a  country  that  had 
not  been  as  often  overrun  by  travellers  as  Syria  and 
Egypt  by  locusts.  At  one  time  I  had  prepared  every- 
thing for  California;  but,  being  unluckily  detained  a 
fortnight  by  indisposition,  I  found,  on  my  recovery, 
that,  in  the  interim,  three  tours,  five  reconnoissances, 
and  seven  explorations  had  been  published.  I  then 
made  up  my  mind  to  take  a  trip  to  the  land  of  Egypt, 
and  visit  the  Red  Sea,  the  Dead  Sea,  Mount  Sinai, 
and  the  cataracts  of  the  Nile.  But,  on  talking  over 
the  subject  with  a  knowing  bookseller,  to  whom  I 
applied  to  publish  my  anticipated  travels,  he  pointed 
to  a  whole  shelf  of  books  of  travels  in  Egypt,  the 
Holy  Land,  Arabia  FelLx,  and  Arabia  Deserta,  which 
he  assured  me  contained  nothing  but  repetitions  of 
each  other.  I  don't  wonder  at  this,  since  such  is  the 
bad  credit  of  travellers,  that  nobody  will  believe  them 
without  an  endorser.  Thus,  wherever  I  turned  my 
face,  I  found  some  one  had  been  before  me,  until  I 
was  fairly  driven  to  Australia,  New  Zealand,  Van 
Dieman's  Land,  and  the  Mulgrave  Islands,  for  a  new 
field  of  action.  But  here  too  I  was  forestalled,  by  the 
discovery  of  gold  in  Australia,  and  was  just  on  the 
point  of  sitting  down  in  despair  and  turning  philan- 
thropist, or  ^^  canvassing  ^^  for  subscriptions  to  periodi- 
cals, both  which  give  great  opportunities  for  seeing 
the  world,  when,  lolling  on  my  piazza  one  evening, 


SIX  WEEKS  IN  THE  MOON.  397 

my  attention  was  providentially  directed  to  that 
blessed  planet,  the  Moon,  which  was  then  shining  full 
in  my  face.  It  at  once  occurred  to  me,  that,  though 
I  had  often  seen  what  pretended  to  be  descriptions  of 
the  Moon  by  lying  travellers  and  planet-struck  star- 
gazers,  no  authentic  account  of  the  country  or  its 
inhabitants  had  ever  been  given  to  the  world ;  for,  as 
to  the  legends  of  my  Lord  Rosse  and  the  rest  of  those 
impostors  that  pretend  to  know  so  much  about  these 
matters,  I  shall  show  in  the  sequel  that  they  know  no 
more  about  them  than  the  Man  in  the  Moon  himself 
■ —  nay,  not  one  tenth  part  as  much ;  for  I  have  evi- 
dence that  he  is  not  such  an  ignoramus  as  most  peo- 
ple believe. 

I  therefore  resolved  at  once  to  make  the  tour  of 
the  Moon.  But  how  to  get  there  was  the  difficulty. 
Various  plans  occurred  to  me,  but  had  to  be  discarded 
as  impracticable.  At  length  I  determined  to  consult 
the  Spirits  of  Knocking,  who  all  come  from  the  Moon. 
Accordingly,  I  visited  a  first-rate  "  medium,"  who,  by 
dint  of  a  considerable  quantity  of  knocks,  called  up 
the  spirit  of  Pythagoras,  which,  after  making  me 
swear  to  seven  years'  silence,  communicated  a  pro- 
cess by  which  any  man  could  ascend  to,  and  descend 
from,  the  Moon,  as  easily  as  a  ray  of  light.  What 
this  process  is,  I  cannot  disclose  without  breaking  my 
faith  with  Pythagoras ;  and,  if  this  were  not  the  case, 
I  should  keep  the  secret,  because  I  mean  to  resei*ve 
the  Moon  all  to  myself,  as  an  inexhaustible  mine,  and 
am  perfectly  assured,  that,  if  I  once  showed  the  way, 
the  poor  planet  would  be  as  much  pestered  with 
adventurers  as  the  Isthmus  of  Panama,  the  upper 
Nile,  or  California. 


398  SIX   WEEKS   IN   THE   MOON. 

Let  it  suffice,  that  T  arrived  safely  in  the  IMoon,  on 
the  first  of  April,  1852,  but  at  what  hour  I  cannot  say, 
as  time  goes  backwards  in  that  planet,  which  is  a 
great  advantage  to  the  people,  who  can  thus  undo 
what  they  have  done,  without  the  least  difficulty. 
While  seeking  for  lodgings,  the  people  gathered  round 
in  crowds,  laughing  most  vociferously  to  see  me  walk- 
ing forwards  instead  of  backwards,  as  I  found  was 
the  universal  custom  here.  This,  they  assured  me, 
was  what  they  called  "  Progress  "  —  in  other  words, 
growing  wise  by  Experience,  the  safest  of  all  guides, 
who  always  looks  behind  him,  as  every-body  knows. 

Having  brought  letters  of  introduction  from  Pytha- 
goras, and  a  learned  judge  who  is  well  known  in  the 
Moon,  I  was  soon  on  the  best  terms  with  the  literary 
and  scientific  portion  of  the  community,  one  of  whom 
carried  me  to  pay  my  respects  to  the  Man  in  the 
Moon,  who,  though  not  the  actual  legitimate  sover- 
eign, was  a  sort  of  Joe  Smith  or  Brigham  Young, 
and  governed  the  people  by  inspiration.  I  found  him 
a  venerable  old  man,  with  a  long  beard,  who,  though 
bowed  down  by  age,  had  yet  a  certain  lustrous  twink- 
ling of  the  eyes  that  spoke  volumes.  He  received  me 
with  great  courtesy,  and  we  had  a  long  conversation 
on  various  subjects,  in  the  course  of  which  I  discov- 
ered he  was  by  no  means  either  a  madman  or  a 
simpleton,  as  has  been  represented.  Indeed,  he  com- 
plained to  me  of  the  great  injustice  that  had  been 
done  him  in  this  respect,  and  condescended  to  give 
me  a  sketch  of  his  life,  of  which  I  shall  offer  only 
a  few  leading  particulars. 

He  traced  all  the  misfortunes  of  his  career  to  being 
wiser  than  his  neighbors,  and  always  in  advance  of 


SIX   WEEKS   IN   THE   MOON.  399 

the  rest  of  mankind,  the  consequence  of  which  was, 
that  everybody  called  him  mad,  because  he  saw  things 
they  could  not  see,  and  foretold  what  never  came  to 
pass,  owing  to  the  obstinate,  wayward  stupidity  of 
his  fellow-creatures,  who  delighted  in  arresting  events 
that  ought  to  have  happened,  according  to  all  reason- 
able calculation.  It  was  always  a  great  object  of  his 
ambition,  to  understand  matters  incomprehensible  to 
all  others ;  to  achieve  undertakings  that  others  pro- 
nounced impossible ;  and  to  develop  mysteries  which 
had  turned  the  brains  of  all  those  who  had  meddled 
with  them.  He  assured  me  he  had  discovered  the 
principle  of  perpetual  motion,  though  he  could  never 
bring  it  into  practical  application ;  that  he  had  actu- 
ally taken  the  great  Beast  in  Revelation  by  the  hoi'ns ; 
was  acquainted  with  the  occult  mysteries  of  Spiritual 
Knockings,  which  he  had  taught  several  of  his  disci- 
ples, who  had  a  predisposition  to  become  "mediums;" 
and  had  mastered  the  process  of  making  gold,  which, 
however,  he  now  never  put  in  practice,  since  the  dis- 
coveries in  California  and  Australia  had  so  diminished 
the  value  of  that  metal,  that  it  cost  more  to  make  it 
than  it  was  worth.  These  studies,  which  had  hitherto 
addled  other  men's  brains,  he  assured  me,  were  mere 
sport  to  him.  "  But,  alas ! "  said  the  old  gentleman, 
"  I  at  length  found  there  were  deeper  mysteries,  more 
profound  depths  of  speculation,  than  these.  I  under- 
took to  search  for  the  wisdom  of  Congress,  and  that 
did  my  business."  He  complained  bitterly  of  the  in- 
justice done  to  himself  and  his  people,  first,  by  the 
common  saying,  "  I  know  no  more  than  the  man  in 
the  Moon."  and  secondly,  by  calling  a  species  of  mad- 
men Lunatics,  for  it  was  plain  to  the  meanest  under- 


400  SIX   WEEKS   IN   THE   MOON. 

standing,  that  the  people  of  the  Moon,  inheriting  the 
lost  wits  of  all  mankind,  must  of  necessity  be  the 
wisest  in  the  world.  He  also  spoke  with  great  indig- 
nation of  the  enormous  fallacies  set  afloat  by  the 
astronomers,  concerning  the  Moon,  which  he  affirmed 
had  no  more  to  do  with  the  tides,  the  changes  of 
weather,  the  wits  of  men,  or  the  shrinking  of  corned 
beef,  than  any  of  the  planets.  I  was  surprised  at  his 
knowing  so  much  about  the  earth,  until  he  told  me 
he  got  all  the  news  from  people  who  were  every  day 
banished  from  that  quarter,  for  being  wiser  than  their 
neighbours. 

Having  received  a  passport  from  the  good  old  man, 
with  full  permission  to  travel  where  I  pleased,  accom- 
panied by  a  caution  against  the  common  infirmity  of 
travellers,  which  I  have  observed  most  implicitly,  I 
mounted  a  Spiritual  Telegraph,  (a  great  improve- 
ment on  that  of  Mr.  INIorse),  and  was  precipitated 
through  the  entire  planet  with  such  prodigious  velo- 
city, that,  when  I  had  completed  my  flight,  I  found  I 
knew  no  more  of  the  country  than  an  English  trav- 
eller who  has  made  a  tour  of  the  United  States.  I 
therefore  determined  to  go  over  the  ground  more 
leisurely,  and  adopt  the  mode  of  pedestrianism  univer- 
sally practised  here,  as  I  mentioned  before.  I  can 
assure  my  readers  it  is  not  without  its  advantages,  at 
least  in  point  of  safety,  since  it  is  notorious  that  a 
great  portion  of  the  dangers,  insults,  and  aggressions 
we  encounter  in  this  world  approach  us  from  the 
rear. 

As  I  proceeded,  I  found  the  people  separated  into 
distinct  classes,  the  first  in  rank  of  which  were  the 
Spiritual  Knockers,  who,  by  virtue  of  their  communion 


SIX   WEEKS   IN   THE   MOON.  401 

with  superior  beings,  carried  their  heads  above  their 
fellow-raortals,  who  kept  only  the  lowest  kind  of  com- 
pany. I  asked  one  of  them,  very  civilly,  what  was 
the  use  of  this  kind  of  spiritual  agency,  and  he  an- 
swered me  rather  contemptuously  —  "Use,  sir?  I 
have  already  learned  by  direct  communication  with 
Sir  Isaac  Newton,  that,  since  he  became  an  inhabi- 
tant of  the  world  of  spirits,  he  has  discovered  that  his 
system  of  gravity  is  only  fit  to  be  laughed  at;  and 
have  been  assured  by  Franklin  that  the  moving  prin- 
ciple of  thought,  impulse,  and  action,  in  all  animals, 
rational  as  well  as  irrational,  is  electricity.  Use,  sir? 
I  should  like  to  know  how  I  could  have  discovered 
all  this  without  communication  with  the  spirits  ?  "  I 
spoke  of  this  as  being  only  a  revival  of  the  visions 
of  Swedenborg,  which  put  him  in  a  great  passion. 
"  Swedenborg !  "  exclaimed  he.  "  Pooh  !  he  only  went 
half  way  ;  but  we  go  the  whole  hog,  as  the  spirits  say 
in  these  parts." 

The  most  numerous,  as  well  as  the  most  zealous 
of  the  Knockers,  were  spinsters  of  a  certain  age,  who 
seemed  inclined  to  make  themselves  amends  for  the 
absence  of  flesh  and  blood  beaux,  by  midnight  flirta- 
tions with  spiritual  ones.  There  were,  also,  some 
desperate  widows,  and  not  a  few  persons  whom  I 
should  have  mistaken  for  reverend  divines,  had  they 
not  been  so  sweet  upon  the  ladies,  who  seemed  to 
take  them  for  spiritual  beings,  for  they  did  not  at  all 
mind  being  alone  with  them  at  midnight  in  bed- 
chambers, in  the  investigation  of  these  profound  mys- 
teries. The  great  bulk,  however,  of  this  sect  consisted 
of  people  a  little  deficient  in  the  furniture  of  the  up- 
per story.     I  expressed  some  commiseration  for  these 

26 


402  SIX   WEEKS    IN   THE   MOON. 

to  a  sober,  discreet  person,  who  was  a  looker-on  as 
well  as  myself,  but  he  coolly  replied,  "  Tt  is  of  very 
little  consequence,  for  if  they  had  not  run  mad  about 
spiritual  knockings,  they  would  have  gone  crazy 
about  something  else  equally  absurd  and  ridiculous." 
One  of  the  "mediums"  asked  me  if  I  would  not  like 
to  have  a  talk  with  my  great-great-grandfather,  but  as 
he  happened  to  have  been  Sus.-per-col.^  and  no  great 
credit  to  the  family,  I  declined  making  his  acquain- 
tance. 

Travelling  onward,  I  arrived  at  a  great  city,  where 
the  inhabitants  had  made  such  rapid  progress  towards 
the  perfection  of  everything,  that  they  were  compelled 
to  go  backwards  in  order  to  accommodate  themselves 
to  the  pace  of  their  neighbours.  One  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished of  the  savans  was  a  famous  geologist,  who 
had  become  so  familiar  with  the  materials  of  which 
the  world  is  composed,  that  he  undertook  to  make 
one  to  suit  himself,  and  avoid  all  the  errors  in  the 
construction  of  the  old  one.  Beins:  the  OTeat  lion  of 
the  place,  I  paid  him  a  visit,  and  found  him  hard  at 
work,  but  he  confessed  that  thus  far  he  had  made  but  a 
poor  business  of  it.  "  It  is  strange,"  said  he  ;  "  I  have 
got  all  the  materials,  but,  somehow  or  other,  I  can't 
put  them  together.  I  find  it  is  not  so  easy  to  make  a 
world  as  I  thought."  The  next  visit  I  paid  was  to  a 
man  who  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  great  seaman, 
though  his  experience  had  been  principally  on  land 
and  in  his  closet,  as  I  was  told.  I  found  him  busy  in 
constructing  a  theory  of  winds  and  currents,  by  which 
he  assured  me  the  time  and  dangers  in  navigating 
vessels  would  be  greatly  diminished,  if  not  altogether 
annulled.    He  pointed  out  to   me  on  the  chart  the 


SIX  WEEKS   IN   THE   MOON.  403 

course  which  the  winds  and  currents  ought  to  go,  if 
they  respected  his  theory.  "  If,"  said  he,  "  I  could 
only  get  that  obstinate  old  fogy.  Experience,  to  be  a 
little  accommodating,  I  should  establish  my  system 
beyond  controversy ;  but,  the  mischief  is,  he  won't  pay 
the  least  attention  to  me ;  and,  what  is  still  more  pro- 
voking, the  winds  and  currents  are,  if  possible,  yet 
more  impracticable ;  they  are  as  obstinate  as  mules ; 
and  every  navigator  who,  at  my  request,  particularly 
noted  these  matters,  assures  me  they  seem  to  delight 
in  running  counter  to  my  directions.  But  never  mind ; 
the  learned,  who  study  these  matters  in  their  closets 
and  understand  them  much  better  than  these  illiterate 
tarpaulins,  have  all  complimented  me  on  my  hypoth- 
esis, and,  what  is  still  better,  almost  all  the  members 
of  Congress  have  become  my  converts." 

"  What ! "  exclaimed  I,  "  have  you  a  Congress  in 
the  Moon?" 

"  To  be  sure  we  have,"  replied  he.  "  It  is  composed 
of  men  who  have  inherited  the  greatest  possible  por- 
tion of  the  lost  wits  of  your  planet,  and  who,  I  am 
happy  to  say,  pay  more  regard  to  my  theories  than  to 
the  experience  of  all  the  officers  of  our  navy  put  to- 
gether. They  are  all  men  of  Progress,  and,  between 
ourselves,  sometimes  are  in  such  a  hurry  that  they 
tread  on  their  own  noses." 

This  city  abounded  in  lecturers  on  every  conceiva- 
ble subject.  There  was  a  lecturer  on  political  econ- 
omy, whom  I  found  discussing  a  project  for  getting 
immense  treasure  from  all  sorts  of  people,  and  enrich- 
ing them  by  taking  it  away.  There  was  another,  lec- 
turing from  a  sand-hill  to  a  great  crowd,  on  socialism. 
In  order  to  exemplify  his  theory,  he  heaped  up  great 


404  SIX   WEEKS   IN   THE   MOON. 

numbers  of  little  sand-hills,  all  exactly  of  a  size ;  but, 
unfortunately,  as  fast  as  he  did  this,  a  puff  of  wind 
disturbed  the  equilibrium  of  his  system,  and  he  was 
obliged  to  begin  again.  There  was  a  female  lecturer, 
who,  by  virtue  of  having  a  considerable  beard,  had  set 
up  as  a  champion  of  the  rights  of  women.  She  was 
backed  by  a  parson,  who  quoted  Scripture  to  show 
that  the  Bible  was  behind  tlie  s))irit  of  the  age;  and 
I  could  not  help  thinking  that  this  union  of  the  gown 
and  the  petticoat  foreboded  an  awful  catastrophe  to 
the  breeches. 

These  anticipations  were  speedily  realized;  for  my 
next  plunge  was  into  the  midst  of  a  Female  Repub- 
lic, established  on  the  principle  of  the  rights  of  wo- 
men. As  I  approached  this  regenerated  region,  I 
heard  a  great  buzzing  in  the  air,  something  like  that 
we  observe  on  approaching  a  bee-hive.  This,  I  found 
on  my  arrival,  proceeded  from  the  legislative  hall, 
where  the  female  deputies  had  met,  to  discuss  the 
fashions  of  caps  and  nether  garments  becoming  their 
elevated  position.  They  were  all  talking  at  once ; 
for  even  the  speakeress  had  her  tongue  constantly  in 
motion,  crying,  "  Order,  ladies,  order."  But  nobody 
seemed  to  hear  her,  or  at  least  nobody  minded  her,  and 
there  was  a  perfect  Babel.  Finally,  the  previous  ques- 
tion was  called  for,  which  threw  several  members  into 
hysterics,  and  the  house  separated  without  adjourn- 
ment. I  was  told  that  they  had  been  in  session  several 
weeks,  but  no  question  had  as  yet  been  put ;  and  one 
of  the  first  practical  difficulties  experienced  in  this  new 
system  of  petticoat  government  was  found  to  be  the 
utter  impossibility  of  bringing  a  debate  to  a  conclusion. 
At  the  hotel  where  I  put  up,  I  found  the  landlord 


SIX   WEEKS   IN   THE   MOON.  405 

rocking  the  cradle,  and  his  wife  dealing  out  mint- 
juleps  to  a  parcel  of  Rights-of- Women  devotees,  who 
were  smoking  and  chewing  tobacco,  and  swearing  like 
troopers.  I  had  hitherto  been  an  enthusiastic  admirer 
of  the  sex,  insomuch  that  I  cannot  recollect  the  time, 
since  I  arrived  at  years  of  discretion,  in  which  I  was 
not  desperately  in  love  ;  and  to  such  a  pitch  did  I  carry 
this  devotion  that  I  have  been  three  times  cast  in 
heavy  damages,  for  breach  of  promises  which  I  never 
made.  But  ever  since  I  witnessed  the  scene  just  de- 
scribed, I  never  think  of  a  pretty  woman  without  feel- 
ing a  little  qualmish,  as  it  were.  Indeed  I  found  the 
general  complaint  of  the  married  women  was,  that 
their  husbands  no  longer  loved  them;  and  of  the  mar- 
ried men,  that  their  wives  were  always  making  love 
to  them,  thus  infringing  on  their  ancient  inalienable 
rights.  Certain  it  is,  I  never  witnessed  such  a  state  of 
things,  and  was  glad  to  get  out  of  this  Female  Repub- 
lic, especially  after  a  strapping  damsel  had  made  a 
demonstration  towards  me  that  I  thought  very  suspi- 
cious. Leaving  this  last  stage  of  Lunar  Progress  back- 
wards, I  next  came  to  another  large  town,  where  I 
found  all  the  people  walking  rapidly  around  in  a  cir- 
cle. Behold,  on  arriving  at  the  point  whence  they 
started,  they  turned  round  and  went  back  again.  I  in- 
quired of  one,  who  was  in  a  great  perspiration  with 
his  .exertions,  what  he  was  doing.  "What  am  I 
doing?"  answered  he,  in  high  dudgeon,  —  "don't  you 
see  I  am  making  Progress  ? "  And  away  he  went, 
whirling  about  like  a  dervis,  or  a  lady  waltzing. 

In  this  city  was  a  famous  University,  reckoned  to 
be  the  most  erudite  in  the  Moon,  because,  though  all 
the  students  carried  a  little  learning  with  them  there. 


406  SIX   WEEKS   IN   THE   MOON. 

few  of  them  brought  any  away.  Though  no  great 
scholar  myself,  I  am  a  devoted  admirer  of  learning, 
and,  having  procured  a  letter  of  introduction  to  the 
Professor  of  Transcendentalism,  paid  him  a  visit.  He 
was  very  polite,  and  gave  me  a  particular  account  of 
the  system  of  education  and  discipline  practised  in 
the  University.  He  informed  me  the  basis  of  the  sys- 
tem was  utility,  and  that  nothing  was  taught  but 
what  tended  to  that  primary  object. 

The  first  class  consisted  of  little  children,  of  from 
five  to  seven  years  old,  whom  the  teachers  were  stuff- 
ing with  knowledge,  as  we  serve  turkeys,  by  thrusting 
it  down  their  throats.  I  asked  the  Professor  if  they 
were  not  sometimes  troubled  with  indigestion,  and  he 
told  me,  that,  whenever  this  was  the  case,  they  stuffed 
them  a  little  more,  on  the  principle  that  the  hair  of  a 
dog  is  good  for  his  bite.  They  were  taught  geology, 
chemistry,  astronomy,  geography,  and  various  other 
sciences,  all  at  the  same  time,  by  questions  and  an- 
swers ;  and  I  noticed  that,  though  the  organ  of  mem- 
ory was  prodigiously  developed,  those  of  the  other 
faculties  had  become  almost  invisible.  They  were 
not  allowed  to  play  at  all,  the  professors  being  of 
opinion  that  it  produced  dissipation  of  mind,  and 
drew  their  attention  from  their  studies.  Most  of 
them  looked  rather  pale  and  sickly,  but  the  Professor 
observed,  that,  as  knowledge  was  power,  physical 
weakness  was  of  little  consequence.  He  requested 
me  to  experiment  on  them,  and  I  found  they  could 
meet  almost  every  question,  the  answer  to  which  they 
had  learned  from  books.  I  remember  I  asked  one 
about  the  river  Mississippi,  and  he  told  me  it  was  a 
river  in  North  America,  which  rose  in  the  Gulf  of 


SIX   WEEKS   IN   THE   MOON.  407 

Mexico,  and  discharged  its  waters  into  Cedar  Lake. 
I  undertook  to  put  him  right,  but  the  Professor  inter- 
posed, and  informed  me  that,  according  to  the  theory 
of  the  Moonites,  all  rivers  began  where  they  ended, 
and  ended  where  they  began. 

From  this  class  we  proceeded  to  others,  until  we 
came  to  that  consisting  of  those  who  were  preparing 
to  take  their  degrees.  I  found  them  engaged  in  vari- 
ous occupations,  calculated,  as  the  Professor  said,  to 
make  them  useful  citizens.  Some  of  these  appeared 
to  me  to  be  rather  strangely  employed.  I  remember 
there  was  one  who  was  washing  a  blackamoor  white, 
by  rubbing  him  with  an  abolition  lecture.  Another 
was  planting  potatoes  in  dry  straw,  and  the  Professor 
assured  me,  that  he  would  not  only  have  a  great  crop, 
but  could  at  the  same  time  roast  his  potatoes  by  set- 
ting fire  to  the  straw.  Another  was  catching  beetles, 
and  suffocating  them  in  a  little  tin  box,  which,  he 
said,  was  a  great  step  in  philanthropy,  as  this  was  a 
much  easier  mode  of  killing  them  than  sticking  pins. 
Another  was  extracting  water  from  pumice-stones ; 
another,  milking  goats  in  a  sieve ;  another,  shearing 
donkeys,  and  converting  their  hair  into  fine  fleeces  of 
wool ;  another,  ploughing  with  a  compass,  in  order  to 
make  straight  furrows ;  and  another,  measuring  how 
far  a  flea  could  jump.  There  were  many  others  very 
busily  occupied  in  various  equally-useful  pursuits,  but 
I  omit  them  for  fear  of  being  tedious. 

We  next  visited  the  library,  which,  the  Professor 
assured  me,  contained  a  vast  many  books  to  be  found 
in  no  other  collection.  There  were  certainly  many 
that  I  never  heard  of  before,  and  I  took  a  memoran- 
dum of  a  few  of  them,  with  the  hope  that  they  may 


408  SIX   WEEKS   IN   THE   MOON. 

be  one  day  republished  by  some  of  our  enterprising 
booksellers,  especially  as  they  will  pay  no  copyright. 
The  following  list  will  suggest  the  general  character 
of  these  volumes : 

The  World  of  Spirits,  by  A  Teetotaller. 

Speculations  on  Indivisible  Atoms,  by  a  Purblind 
Philosopher. 

Nebuloeana ;  or,  the  Planets  in  Embryo. 

The  Philosophy  of  Bacon,  exemplified  in  Smoking 
Hams. 

The  Transmigration  of  Souls  proved  by  the 
Change  of  Tadpoles  into  Bull-Frogs. 

How  Oysters  may  be  made  to  climb  up  to  the  Tops 
of  Mountains. 

Dissertation  on  Chaos,  showing  how  the  World  was 
made  by  Coral  Insects,  and  rose  from  the  Bot- 
tom of  the  Sea. 

The  Bottle- Conjurer,  or  Chemist's  Manual. 

Pathology  of  Sneezing. 

Trip  to  Parnassus,  or.  Rules  for  Criticising  Poetry 
on  Mechanical  Principles. 

The  Scrub- Race  of  Politicians. 

The  System  of  Progressing  Backwards. 

Gooseology,  or,  the  Art  of  Standing  on  One  Leg. 

On  the  Feasibility  of  establishing  a  Universal  Lan- 
guage of  Signs,  whereby  Dumb  INIen  would  be 
on  a  Par  with  the  Rest  of  their  Fellow- Creatures. 

Dissertation,  proving  that  all  Men's  Virtues  proceed 
from  their  Faults,  and  all  their  Faults  from  their 
Virtues. 

The  Cobweb  of  Metaphysicians. 

Ichthyophagy,  or,  the  Mysteries  of  the  Loaves  and 
Fishes. 


SIX   WEEKS   IN   THE   MOON.  409 

Plan  for  supplying  Rivers  with  Water,  by  Means 

of  Hydraulic  Rams. 
Plan  for  reforming  Scolding  Wives,  by  making  all 

Married  Men  deaf. 
A  Dissertation  on  the  Causes  why  Old  Men  lose 
the  Hair  of  their  Heads,  while  their  Beards  con- 
tinue to  grow  and  flourish. 
Remarkable    Case  of   Professor   Windygust,  who, 
having  all  his  Life  been  accustomed  to  swaUow- 
ing  Wind-mills,  was  at  length  choked  by  a  Lump 
of  Soft  Butter  he  found  at  the  Mouth  of  a  Hot 
Oven. 
This  is  only  a  small  sample  of  the  scarce  and  valu- 
able books  and  manuscripts  contained  in  this  unique 
library.     Many  of  the  latter,  as  the  Professor  assured 
me,  were  rescued  from  the  flames,  during  the  wanton 
destruction  of  the  Alexandrian  Library. 

The  Professor  then  took  me  to  the  Hall  of  Dispu- 
tation, where  the  faculty  were  debating  interesting 
questions  of  science  and  philosophy.  Among  the  rest, 
I  remember  one  that  was  very  learnedly  discussed.  It 
was,  whether  goat's  hair  was  wool  or  not ;  and  I  was 
astonished  to  find  what  interesting  results  were  in- 
volved in  the  question.  Another  was,  which  of  the  legs 
of  a  goose  was  his  right  one.  The  great  difficulty  in 
deciding  the  point  was,  that  one  of  the  disputants 
placed  himself  at  the  head,  the  other  at  the  tail,  of  the 
goose.  Hence,  what  appeared  to  one  the  right  leg 
seemed  to  the  other  the  left.  I  know  not  to  what 
length  the  argument  would  have  been  carried,  for  both 
parties  were  getting  rather  warm,  had  not  the  moder- 
ator suggested  that  each  of  the  disputants  should 
imagine  himself  a  goose,  and  then  there  would  be  no 


410  SIX   WEEKS   IN   THE   MOON. 

difficulty  in  ascertaining  which  was  his  right  leg. 
This  simple  expedient  settled  the  point  to  the  satis- 
faction of  all  parties,  and  it  was  decided  that  the  de- 
bate should  be  published  in  the  Transactions  of  the 
Philosophical  Society. 

I  was  about  to  bid  farewell  to  my  friend  the  Pro- 
fessor, and  return  thanks  for  his  attentions,  when  I 
received  a  telegraphic  despatch,  informing  me  that  I 
had  been  "  cornered "  in  a  speculation  in  Canton 
stock,  entered  into  previous  to  the  commencement  of 
my  tour.  This  rendered  my  immediate  presence  ne- 
cessary below  stairs,  and  I  accordingly  made  tracks 
towards  home,  leaving  a  great  part  of  the  moon  un- 
explored. But  I  faithfully  promise  the  reader,  that, 
if  I  once  get  out  of  this  "corner,"  without  being  a 
lame  duck,  he  shall  one  day  see  the  remainder  of  my 
travels. 


A   MOOD    OF    NATURE    AND    OF   MAN. 


A    MOOD    OF    NATURE    AND    OF    MAN. 


I  FEEL  this  morning  a  sort  of  humourous  sadness ; 
a  sense  of  loneliness,  and  absence,  and  carelessness, 
that  half  amounts  to  a  gentlemanlike  melancholy.  I 
believe  I  could  entertain  a  score  or  two  of  blue  devils  ; 
and  be  actually  doleful,  if  I  could  only  find  a  toler- 
able apology  for  gloom.  Unluckily,  I  cannot  light  on 
a  reasonable  excuse  to  be  unhappy ;  for  I  have  got  well 
of  all  my  complaints,  real  and  imaginary ;  have  a  fair 
supply  of  paper-money  for  my  occasions  ;  have  buried 
my  fears  of  French  influence,  ever  since  Napoleon 
began  to  grow  fat ;  —  and  am  a  bachelor.  Yet  for  all 
this,  could  I  rail  at  the  first-born  of  Egypt,  and  even 
find  fault  with  the  worthy  lady  at  whose  dwelling  we 
now  are,  detained  by  a  shower,  although  her  face  is 
the  picture  of  good-humour,  and  her  house  the  abode 
of  good  cheer.  I  intended  to  reason  a  little  this  morn- 
ing on  cause  and  effect  —  a  new  subject  I  —  but  I 
reasoned,  as  people  sometimes  get  up  of  a  morning, 
wrong  end  foremost.  I  then  joked  the  waiter,  but 
got  worsted,  which  only  made  me  more  dismal  than 
before.  This  state  of  mind,  under  the  influence  of 
which  the  heart  falls  into  a  heavy  depression,  without 
any  particular  cause  that  we  know  of,  is  sometimes 


414  A   MOOD   OF   NATURE   AND   OF   MAN. 

ascribed  to  a  presentiment  of  approaching  evil  —  a 
warning  coming  from  some  mysterious  source  with 
which  we  are  altogether  unacquainted.  But  this  is  a 
superstitious  idea,  and  consequently  discarded  by  phil- 
osophers, who,  in  general,  attribute  it  to  an  absence 
of  real  sources  of  misery,  which  leaves  a  vacuum  for 
imaginary  ones  to  creep  in  and  make  a  great  bustle. 
They  say  the  best  and  only  radical  cure  for  this  men- 
tal disorder  is  substantial  care  and  actual  trouble; 
and,  accordingly,  agree  in  recommending  matrimony 
as  a  sovereign  remedy ;  that  being  the  great  evil  which 
renders  all  others  insignificant.  But,  instead  of  flying 
to  this  desperate  specific,  I  will  try  what  occupation 
of  mind  will  do  in  the  way  of  relief. 

In  truth,  the  solitary  nook  into  which  I  am  just 
now  thrown  bears  an  aspect  so  interesting,  that  it  is 
calculated  to  call  up  the  most  touchingly-pleasing 
emotions,  in  the  minds  of  those  who  love  to  indulge 
in  the  contemplation  of  beautiful  scenes.  We  are  the 
sons  of  earth,  and  the  indissoluble  kinship  between 
nature  and  man  is  demonstrated  by  our  sense  of  her 
charms.  I  shall  not  soon  forget  last  evening.  It 
was  such  as  can  never  be  described :  I  will,  therefore, 
not  attempt  it ;  but  it  was  still  as  the  sleep  of  inno- 
cence, pure  as  ether,  and  bright  as  immortality.  It 
happened  that  I  strolled  out  alone  along  the  windings 
of  a  little  stream  about  twenty  yards  wide,  that  skirts 
a  narrow  strip  of  green  meadow,  between  the  brook 
and  the  high  mountain  close  at  hand.  You  will  con- 
fess my  landscapes  are  well  watered,  for  every  one 
has  a  river.  But  such  is  the  case  in  this  region,  where 
all  the  passes  of  the  mountains  are  made  by  streams, 
that,  in  process  of  time,  have  laboured  through,  and 


A   MOOD    OF   NATURE   AND    OF   MAN.  415 

left  a  space  for  a  road  on  their  banks.  If  nature  will 
do  these  things,  I  can't  help  it  —  not  I.  In  the  course 
of  the  ramble  the  moon  rose  over  the  mountain  to  the 
eastward,  which,  being  just  by,  seemed  to  bring  her 
visage  equally  near ;  and  the  bright  eyes  of  the  stars 
began  to  glisten,  as  if  weeping  the  dews  of  evening. 
I  knew  not  the  name  of  one  single  star.  But  what  of 
that  ?  It  is  not  necessary  to  be  an  astronomer,  to 
contemplate  with  exalted  emotions  the  glories  of  the 
sky  at  night,  and  the  countless  wonders  of  the  uni- 
verse. 

"  These  earthly  godfathers  of  Heaven's  lights, 
That  give  a  name  to  every  fixed  star, 
Have  no  more  profit  of  their  living  nights, 
Than  those  that  walk  and  wot  not  what  they  are." 

Men  may  be  too  wise  to  wonder  at  anything ;  as 
they  may  be  too  ignorant  to  see  anything  without 
wondering.  There  is  reason  also  to  believe  that  as- 
tronomers may  be  sometimes  so  taken  up  with  meas- 
uring the  distances  and  magnitude  of  the  stars,  as 
to  lose,  in  the  intense  minuteness  of  calculation,  that 
noble  expansion  of  feeling  and  intellect  combined, 
which  lifts  from  nature  up  to  its  great  first  cause.  As 
respects  myself,  I  know  no  more  of  these  orbs  than 
the  man  in  the  moon.  I  only  contemplate  them  as 
unapproachable,  inextinguishable  fires,  glittering  afar 
off",  in  those  azure  fields  whose  beauty  and  splendour 
have  pointed  them  out  as  the  abode  of  the  Divinity. 
As  such,  they  form  bright  links  in  the  chain  of  thought 
that  leads  directly  to  a  contemplation  of  the  Maker  of 
heaven  and  earth.  Nature  is,  indeed,  the  only  temple 
worthy  of  the  Deity.  There  is  a  mute  eloquence  in 
her  smile ;  a  majestic  severity  in  her  frown ;  a  divine 
spell   in    her   harmony ;    a  speechless  energy  in   her 


416  A    MOOD    OF   NATURE   AND    OF   MAN. 

silence ;  a  voice  in  her  thunders,  that  no  reflecting  be- 
ing can  resist.  It  is  in  such  scenes  and  seasons,  that 
the  heart  is  most  deeply  smitten  with  the  power  and 
goodness  of  Providence,  and  that  the  soul  demonstrates 
its  capacity  for  maintaining  an  existence  independent 
of  matter,  by  abstracting  itself  from  the  body,  and  ex- 
patiating alone  in  the  boundless  regions  of  the  past 
and  the  future. 

As  I  continued  strolling  forward,  there  gradually 
came  a  perfect  calm  —  and  even  the  aspen-tree  whis- 
pered no  more.  But  it  was  not  the  death-like  calm 
of  a  winter's  night,  when  tlie  whistling  wind  grows 
quiet,  and  the  frosts  begin  in  silence  to  forge  fetters 
for  the  running  brooks  and  the  gentle  current  of  life 
that  flows  throuij^h  the  veins  of  the  forest.  The  voice 
of  man  and  beast  was  indeed  unheard;  but  the  river 
murmured,  and  the  insects  chirped  in  the  mild  sum- 
mer evening.  There  is  something  sepulchral  in  the 
stillness  of  a  winter  night;  but  in  the  genial  seasons 
of  the  year,  though  the  night  is  the  emblem  of  repose, 
it  is  the  repose  of  the  couch,  not  of  the  tomb.  Nature 
still  breathes  in  the  buzz  of  insects,  the  whisperings  of 
the  forest,  and  the  babbling  of  the  brooks.  We  know 
she  will  awake  in  the  morning,  with  her  smiles,  her 
bloom,  her  zephyrs  and  warbling  birds.  "  In  such  a 
night  as  this,"  if  a  man  loves  any  human  being  in 
this  wide  world,  he  will  find  it  out,  for  around  that 
being  will  his  thoughts  first  centre.  If  he  has  in  store 
any  sweet,  or  bitter,  or  bitter-sweet  recollections,  which 
are  deadened  in  the  rush  of  business,  they  will  come 
without  being  called.  If,  in  his  boyish  years,  he 
wrestled,  and  rambled,  and  wrangled  with,  yet  loved, 
some  chubby  boy,  he  will  remember  the  days  of  his 


A   MOOD   OF   NATURE    AND    OF   MAN.  417 

childhood,  its  companions,  cares,  and  pleasures.  If, 
in  his  prime  of  romance,  he  used  to  walk  of  evenings 
with  some  blue-eyed,  musing,  melancholy  maid,  whom 
the  ever-rolling  wave  of  life  dashed  away  from  him 
for  ever  —  he  will  recall  her  voice,  her  eye,  and  her 
form.  If  any  heavy  and  severe  disaster  has  fallen  on 
his  riper  manhood,  and  turned  the  future  into  -a 
gloomy  and  unpromising  wilderness ;  he  will  feel  it 
bitterly  at  such  a  time.  Or  if  it  chance  that  he  is 
grown  an  old  man,  who  has  lived  to  see  all  that  owned 
his  blood,  or  shared  his  affections,  struck  down  to  the 
earth  like  dead  leaves  in  autumn ;  in  such  a  night,  he 
will  call  their  dear  sliades  around,  and  wish  himself  a 
shadow. 


THE    END- 


27 


Cambridge:  Press  of  John  Wilson  &  Son. 


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